The Silk Revolution
by Sharrukin
Summary: The Reaper War exposed deep contradictions in asari society, but in the aftermath, the fight to survive delayed any resolution. Now, over a decade later, a former Cerberus operative and a renegade asari maiden must find a way to stand for justice amid the fires of revolution. Adventure, drama, science fiction, and a surprising romance. Part of the Memoirs continuity.
1. Arrival

_**10 Thargelia 3364 AR (16 January 2198), T'Selien Spaceport, Armali/Thessia**_

A female human paced down the access ramp from her ship, out into the busy spaceport concourse.

Even on Thessia, where physical beauty was commonplace, she attracted attention. Tall, slim but generously curved, she carried herself like a trained athlete. She wore a light armored bodysuit that hugged her form, all in shining black with gold accents. Her high-heeled boots gave her walk a feline air, clicking emphatically with each step.

More than one asari stared as the woman passed, but then they looked into her face: coldly beautiful, like a statue of Athame come to life, with a long mane of black hair pulled back into a single braid. It was the _expression_ that caused them to turn away, with a small shiver down the spine: fierce and determined, with very little patience for mortal failings.

"Miranda!"

A petite asari stepped forward, from where she had been leaning against a wall: pale-blue skin, insect-wing pattern of white dapples across her face, smoky silver eyes with dark rims, and a flat-black combat bodysuit in typical commando style.

Miranda Lawson stopped and nodded. "Hello, Vara."

"Welcome back to Thessia," said the asari, her glance assessing the human with lightning speed. "You're looking well."

"Thanks. Things do seem to be settling down out there. Nobody's taken a shot at me in weeks."

Vara T'Rathis grinned at her human friend. "I'm afraid we may have to break that record. Tensions may be declining out in the galaxy, but they seem about to boil over here."

Miranda frowned, as she and Vara turned to continue down the concourse. "Do you seriously expect violence?"

"I'm not sure," said the asari, sobering quickly. "Liara isn't sure either. There _has_ been violence here and there ever since the war. Banditry, blood-feuds, a few cases of outright _stasis_ in some of the smaller city-states . . ."

"_Stasis?"_ Miranda asked, giving her companion a puzzled glance.

"Hmm. I can see how the word might have translated oddly into English." Vara paused for a moment, thinking. "The _koiné_ word comes from a root that means _to stand_. The idea is that you get some people _standing_ with one faction, and others _standing_ with another. They stop talking to each other. Before long they can't compromise with each other, or even recognize each other as having legitimate concerns. Sooner or later they start resorting to violence."

"_Civil war,_ we might call that."

"Well. There's nothing _civil_ about it." Vara shrugged. "Armali has been relatively quiet. It helps that Liara has been here most of the time, ever since the war, pouring resources into relief and recovery. After the first two or three years, there wasn't any more danger of famine, people had a chance to do some rebuilding, and life started getting back to normal. We've been better off than some other parts of the planet. _Far_ better off."

Miranda snorted. "Give people a little prosperity, and they can start fighting over abstractions again."

"Yes." Vara sighed, looking worried. "I'm afraid Liara has been busy giving our people the perfect abstractions to fight over."

* * *

Their aircar swept low over Armali, on its way to the T'Soni lineage estates to the east. As always, Miranda looked out at the city and felt melancholy.

She had first visited Thessia as a young woman, barely out of her teens, but already one of the Illusive Man's leading operatives. She had been young and stupid at the time, full of a recent convert's zeal for the human-supremacist ideology of Cerberus. Even so, the asari homeworld had made a deep impression. She found a people who had confidently traveled the stars while humanity still struggled to discover the useful properties of iron. She spoke to diplomats, scientists, mathematicians, artists, musicians, poets. She wondered at the graceful architecture, buildings soaring over a kilometer into the sky, sweeping curves and gleaming spires everywhere the eye chanced to rest.

To be sure, the asari were far from perfect. They lacked a certain drive, a certain practical toughness, which young Miranda knew humans possessed in full. She could secretly sneer at their pretense to be superior beings, even while she found much to appreciate and admire about them.

Now . . .

Miranda would be fifty years old before much longer. Not _old_ by any means, especially given her gene-engineered longevity, but not a young woman any more either. She felt as if she had lost her innocence so many times, she could barely remember what it had once felt like. Her life had become a constant project of rebuilding, trying to recover something out of the wreckage of her lost youth.

Much like Thessia.

Almost nothing remained of Armali's glorious architecture. The Reapers had been on Thessia for only a week, but in that short time they managed to smash every soaring spire into so much wreckage. It had taken years for the asari to clear away the rubble and start rebuilding. Even now, over a decade later, whole districts remained full of empty shells. Miranda couldn't see a single building taller than about fifteen meters. The Armali skyline looked like an ancient, decrepit jawbone, full of gaps and the snags of broken teeth.

At least the city looked occupied and busy, with plenty of people moving about in the streets, mostly asari but with a few others in the mix. Many were on foot, and Miranda could even see a few _animal-drawn_ vehicles, rickety-looking carts carrying cargo or passengers. Apparently Thessia's economy had not yet recovered to the point of permitting all its citizens to use high-tech transport.

_How the mighty have fallen._

_Not that Earth is better off. The Reapers had a lot more time to wreck the place. We're lucky humanity's homeworld didn't get pushed all the way back into the Stone Age._

Suddenly Miranda frowned, staring down into the streets of Armali as the aircar flew overhead. "Vara, what's going on there?"

Down below, one wide street was _thronged_ with asari, hundreds of them, possibly even a few thousand. They marched slowly, shoulder to shoulder, blocking all other traffic. The aircar was too high up for Miranda to hear anything, but she could see arms being waved rhythmically in the air.

The asari spared a moment from piloting to glance in the direction Miranda pointed. "Hmm. I'm not sure."

"Take us down," Miranda commanded.

"_What?"_

"I want to see this." The human hesitated. "Unless you think it's dangerous."

"Well. We asari do tend to flock, but we're not as likely as you humans to get violent when we're in large groups. I suppose we can take a closer look." Vara suddenly smiled. "In fact, we can think of it as an intelligence-gathering exercise. I'll wager Liara will want to know about this."

Vara banked in the air, looking for an empty lot not far from the procession's line of march. Miranda turned in her seat to keep an eye on the procession. Thus she saw when some of the marchers noticed the aircar, their expressions and body language changing. She frowned.

_Those asari are angry. At us?_

_Well, of course. We're in an aircar. They don't know who we are, but they know we're rich and privileged._

She almost opened her mouth to tell Vara that she had changed her mind, but then she shook her head in determination. She did take a moment to draw and check her sidearm, earning a sharp glance from her companion.

The aircar landed, and Vara and Miranda emerged. Both of them had sidearms on hand, and the asari slung a light sword, rather like a Chinese _dao_, on her back. They closed and secured the vehicle behind them, just in time for a flying wedge of asari to arrive in the vacant lot. The newcomers came up at a run, only to stop short with puzzled expressions when they saw who had been in the vehicle.

Vara made a gesture with both open hands, indicating that she might be armed but wasn't planning to use violence. At least not unless provoked. "Vara T'Rathis," she identified herself. "Chief acolyte to Liara T'Soni."

"Oh!" exclaimed one of the asari in the lead, a violet-skinned maiden with hazel eyes and a broad white smile. "We're sorry, _therapōn_. We thought you might be part of some important Matriarch's retinue. It wouldn't be entirely safe for any such to land here."

"Are you saying your group would offer violence to a Matriarch's people?" said Vara, a note of danger in her tone.

"Not at all." The young asari shrugged. "It's just that her aircar might not be in working order by the time she got back to it. Terrible, if she found herself having to _walk_ around the city, like one of us ordinary citizens."

Vara snorted. "Of course, as things stand, you'll be only too happy to post a watch over our vehicle, so nothing _unfortunate_ will happen to it."

"Right." The young asari glanced at her companions. "Melitta, Rhea, Sestris, you three wait here. Make sure anyone who comes by knows whose aircar this is."

This command met with enthusiastic agreement.

Miranda set out for the main street about twenty meters away, where the head of the procession had just passed by. This close, she could finally hear the noise of the crowd, the shouting of _koiné _slogans.

"_We demand academic freedom!"_

"_We reject ageism!"_

"_There must be an end to Matriarchal privilege!"_

Vara stayed close by, her face set in a calm, professional expression, trying to watch every quarter at once. The two of them found themselves with an enthusiastic escort, all of them _young_ asari, if Miranda was any judge.

"My name is Yesira," said the asari who had first accosted them, glancing up and down at the human stranger. "Who are you?"

"I'm Miranda."

"Miranda . . ." Yesira frowned for an instant, and then enlightenment spread across her face. "Goddess, I recognize you! You're _Miranda Lawson."_

Miranda glanced at Vara, only to catch a fleeting amused expression on her friend's face. "Am I _that_ famous on Thessia?"

"Of course you are," said Yesira, when the older asari failed to answer. "You were one of _Commander Shepard's_ people! You helped him defeat the Reapers!"

Miranda snorted in cynical amusement. "When we started, Commander Shepard was one of _my_ people, and I worked for Cerberus."

Yesira made a dismissive gesture, just as their group stepped out into the marching throng, suddenly surrounded on all sides by excited asari. "That's not important. You left Cerberus behind when it mattered."

_Not to mention, I've spend most of the last twelve years hunting down Cerberus die-hards, most of whom have done their level best to kill me in the process._

"What's going on here?" asked Vara. "You look like a pack of university students."

"Most of us are," said Yesira. "Students and staff, a few of the faculty. Some from the entertainment district on the south bank of the river, where a lot of students congregate."

"Do you have any _goals_ in mind, other than to block traffic and shout slogans?"

Miranda frowned, wondering at the note of disapproval she heard in Vara's voice.

"Of course!" Yesira's passion seemed undaunted. "We're sick of interference from the Matriarchs. Ever since the war, they've been constantly meddling with the University, censoring the curricula, forcing the dismissal of faculty they don't like. _Thessia can't afford radicalism in a time of recovery_, they say. Well, they're just provoking the radicalism they claim they oppose."

"So what do you plan to do about it?" Miranda asked.

"The Republic of Armali is supposed to guarantee the University's independence and neutrality," Yesira explained. "We're going to go and present our grievances to the board of _archons_."

Vara shook her head in weary disgust. "You have to know that won't work. Half of the _archons_ are reactionary Matriarchs, and that's the half that has all the power."

"Matriarch Kleitho is First Speaker on the board," Yesira objected. "She's been publicly sympathetic to our position."

"Only when it wouldn't cost her anything. Good luck getting her to _act."_

Miranda listened to the conversation with half her attention, most of her mind taking in other sense-impressions. She had somehow made it into the very heart of the marching crowd. Passionate young asari surged on all sides, along with a few aliens who must have been university students from off-world. Color rioted in her field of vision, skin of every shade but dominated by blue and violet, clothing in a hundred clashing hues. Feminine voices rippled and surged, some of them conversing, many of them continuing to shout slogans. Miranda even picked up a _scent_, like cloves and cinnamon, the aroma of a flock of excited asari.

Many in the crowd glanced her way, but word of her identity seemed to have spread. No one challenged her presence.

Then she saw the first sign of trouble: an asari standing on a rooftop, overlooking the line of march, wearing a black bodysuit. She was not obviously armed, but she watched the procession with close attention.

Then another, on a different rooftop. Then a third. Then a small group standing in a side alley, still not clearly armed.

"Vara," Miranda murmured.

"I see them. Armali militia." The short asari commando shook her head. "Nothing to worry about, not yet. They're just watching."

"Are you sure?"

"I used to be one of them, before I went off to Illium to join Liara before the war. I recognize their doctrine. If you can see them, it's because they want to be seen. It's when they disappear that we'll need to worry."

"All right."

The street ahead seemed to grow wider, opening out into a big square or plaza. Miranda could hear the asari voices around her grow more cheerful and animated.

"The Plaza of Explorers," said Yesira, pointing.

Miranda nodded, the name triggering the ghost of a memory. "That's where Shepard landed, isn't it? The day the Reapers came to Thessia?"

For a moment, a shadow crossed the young asari's face. "Yes. Goddess, that was a horrible day."

"Were you here?"

"No, I was fortunate. I was still too young to come to the University then. I lived with my mother in a small town, out in the country. She had been following the news from the rest of the galaxy, and she never believed the official assurances that Thessia was safe, so we were prepared. The moment we saw the Reapers landing, we grabbed our go-bags and ran for the mountains. We survived the invasion, never even had to fight more than a few stray husks and marauders." The young asari shuddered. "Still. I've seen vids, I've spoken to a lot of people who were right here in the city that day. It was like the end of everything."

Miranda nodded, glancing around as the crowd moved out into the plaza.

_If it weren't for Shepard, that would have _been_ the end of everything._

For an instant, she felt the old pain, like a nagging wound that had never quite healed. The one man she had always admired, had never betrayed. Her friend, her comrade-in-arms, her _equal_. Gone without a trace, and no one had ever learned for certain what happened to him at the very end of the war. A sacrifice, one that purchased survival for billions of others.

_Damn you, Shepard. You should have found some way to survive. The galaxy hasn't been the same without you._

The procession apparently reached its destination, devolving into a mere crowd milling about at one end of the great plaza. Miranda could see the building at the focus of everyone's attention, a five-story affair that had the look of recent construction. A few of the young asari had climbed a broad staircase to stand under a long colonnade, where they confronted others in black combat armor.

Miranda glanced around the plaza. Yes, she saw more black-clad asari on several rooftops, and at least one armored vehicle posted at the far corner of the square. Still, no one seemed ready for violence. Vara didn't seem concerned, and neither did any of the marchers.

The debate at the top of the stairs seemed to come to a resolution. Five asari were permitted past the militia and through the big double doors.

For some reason, this seemed to please the crowd. A great cheer went up, echoing off the building's façade, startling a nearby flock of little avians into flight.

* * *

The Reapers had not had time to destroy _everything_ on Thessia. Outside the great urban centers, most buildings remained intact, suffering damage only if wandering bands of Reaper soldiers had come prowling through the region.

The T'Soni lineage estate was a prominent exception. One of the Reaper platforms investing Armali had deliberately ventured away from the city, just long enough to turn Liara's manor house into a smoking pile of rubble. Almost as if the monsters had _known_ who lived there.

_Maybe they did,_ Miranda thought. _Of all Shepard's people, Liara probably accomplished the most to contribute to their defeat. If she hadn't discovered the Crucible data, almost at the last possible moment, we wouldn't have had the slightest chance of survival._

Miranda's mind sheered away from some of the _other_ contributions Liara had made to Shepard's success . . . as his wife.

The Shadow Broker might have spent billions to rebuild Thessia and other worlds, but her own home remained a ruin. At the moment, she lived in a little two-story bungalow by the shore, something she and her acolytes had assembled out of scavenged materials and hard physical labor. It seemed a strange place from which to run the galaxy's most extensive intelligence network, but somehow its mistress seemed to make it work.

Miranda found Liara down by the shore, sitting in a lounge chair that faced the sand and waves, wearing nothing but a two-piece bathing suit in white. The slender asari seemed deeply engrossed in a stack of datapads, a half-eaten meal sitting forgotten on a small table by her side.

"We're here," said Vara at last, a small, tolerant smile on her face.

Liara startled for an instant, and then recovered, placing her current datapad on top of the stack. She rose from the lounge chair with unconscious grace and peered at her visitors. "I was beginning to worry. We expected you hours ago."

"My fault," said Miranda, stepping forward to give Liara a sisterly embrace of greeting. "We saw some kind of protest march in the city. I insisted that we get a closer look. We ended up staying for the whole affair."

"Ah." Liara nodded, a conspicuous lack of surprise on her face. "I knew something was likely to happen today. It's the Day of Remembrance, after all."

Miranda frowned for a moment, and then nodded in understanding. "I'd forgotten. Today's the anniversary of the Battle of Earth, isn't it, by the Thessian calendar?"

"The tenth day of Thargelia," Liara agreed. "The day the Reapers suddenly stopped trying to exterminate the asari people. It's a holiday now, in Armali. A good day for people to gather and think about the larger issues."

"Did _you_ have anything to do with this?" Vara demanded.

"Perhaps a little," Liara admitted. "A word or two to the right people, the last time I visited the University, nothing more. Vara, you know I'm not trying to _encourage_ these protests. If anything, I want to restrain them. The last thing we need on Thessia right now is a revolution. Anything like that is far too likely to turn violent."

"You may not be trying to encourage anyone, but you have to know that even _a word or two_ from you is going to have a profound and unpredictable effect." Vara shook her head in consternation. _"Despoina_, you _must_ be more careful."

Liara smiled at Miranda. "Vara worries about my safety."

"Someone has to," the commando muttered, "since _you_ seem uninterested in the project."

"In any case, Miranda, will you be able to stay for long?"

"I think so." The human rubbed at her cheek, a gesture of uncertainty. "Although I'm not sure why you called me here this time. Asari politics aren't really within my scope."

"I think you will be interested in them in this case." Liara bent to rummage through the pile of datapads by her chair, and came up with one in particular. She handed the pad to Miranda.

Miranda flash-read the document. She could feel her face setting into cold, grim lines.

"They're _here?"_ she demanded at last. "What in God's name could they be up to?"

"That's what I want to find out," said the Shadow Broker. "Cerberus has no business on Thessia. I want you to help me deal with them."

"I can see why you didn't want to talk about this over comms," said Miranda. "All right. I'm in."


	2. Reconnaissance

_**10 Thargelia 3364 AR (16 January 2198), T'Soni Lineage Estates, Armali/Thessia**_

Evening came, and a cool breeze off the sea. Miranda stepped out onto the broad deck behind Liara's home, enjoying the sound of the surf, the scent of the air, and the stars beginning to appear in the sky far above.

Then she noticed someone sitting in a lounge chair at the far end of the deck, sipping from a mug of some hot drink.

"Liara?"

The figure stirred, moving to rise from her chair. Miranda immediately knew she had made a mistake. The stranger was human: female, slim and of average height, past her first youth but still trim and fit, with porcelain complexion and close-cropped hair that blazed in the golden light of sunset.

Not a stranger at all, in fact.

"Oh! Ms. Lawson." For a moment the woman looked uneasy, old memories rising to the fore only to be set firmly aside. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come out onto the deck."

Miranda walked over to shake the other woman's hand. "Hello, Dr. Chambers. I didn't know you were on Thessia."

"Oh, I've lived here for several years now." Kelly Chambers sipped left-handed from her mug once more, and then set it down on a side table with a sharp _clack_. "I've been involved with one of Liara's people for a while. Off and on ever since the war, in fact."

Miranda felt her eyebrows lift in surprise. "I don't think I ever heard that."

"You probably know her." Kelly smiled suddenly, the expression lighting up her face with uncomplicated joy. "Tania Kethys."

"Yes," said Miranda. "One of Liara's security detail, isn't she? The pilot and expert sniper."

"That's her. I thought it was going to be just a short-term thing, you know?" Kelly shrugged. "That was how I was back then, one short-term thing after another. Tania was the same. We had one wonderful little fling before the war got too bad. Then, after the fighting ended and we all realized we were going to survive, Tania and I discovered that we actually _missed_ each other. Every time Liara returned to the Citadel and Earth, Tania would come and visit, and we would get back together again. Finally I decided to move to Thessia so I could see her more often. There's plenty of work here for a therapist. Even a human, if she's done post-grad work in asari psychology."

"Have you . . ."

"Bonded? No, and we probably won't. No need to make it formal. Tania's too young by a century to think about starting a family yet. We're good together, one day at a time, and that's enough."

Miranda frowned, hesitating, and then decided to throw caution to the winds. If any human would answer her questions candidly, it was this one. "Dr. Chambers . . ."

"Oh, for God's sake, _call me Kelly."_

"All right . . . Kelly. Please, then, call me Miranda." She took a deep breath. "I have to admit to some curiosity. Just what _is_ it like, being involved with an asari?"

Kelly cocked her head, considering the question seriously. "Well, if you're asking about the _sex_, it isn't all that different from being with a female human. Humans are unusually compatible with asari, more so than any of the other major species."

_As Shepard certainly discovered_, Miranda thought, with a flash of resentment. Then she shook her head slightly, annoyed with herself, and put the thought out of her mind.

"There are differences in detail, of course," Kelly continued. "Erogenous zones not quite in the same place, minor changes in anatomy, variances in psychological response, that sort of thing. None of it gets _too_ alien. By and large, asari play the same games that humans do, and derive the same kind of enjoyment from them."

"What about the _mental_ intimacy?" Miranda asked quietly.

"Oh." For a moment, Kelly actually _blushed_. "Well. That _is_ different. That moment of perfect communion, sharing thoughts and memories . . . it's like getting to know your partner, completely and in depth, in a single flash of insight. It's a kind of deep knowledge-of-the-other that human partners might need a lifetime to achieve. If they ever do."

Miranda trembled for an instant, gripped by an overwhelming wave of emotion, the nature of which she didn't care to analyze.

Kelly watched her with calm compassion. "The thought frightens you, doesn't it?"

"Maybe." Miranda shrugged, forcing herself to relax. "Most of my life has been about keeping secrets. The thought of lowering my guard so completely, rendering myself that _vulnerable_ . . ."

"I understand." Kelly hesitated. "It can have its compensations. You may remember just how much of a wreck I was, after the Collectors."

Miranda nodded grimly.

She recalled the Battle of Taranis: the Collectors swarming aboard _Normandy_ while Shepard and many of his team were away. Most of the ship's crew had been captured, carried off for _processing_ at the Collector base. Jeff Moreau had been a witness and a survivor of the attack. He had _shuddered_ when he described Kelly's hopeless screams, as a Collector dragged her away.

Now Miranda watched the other woman, looking for the marks of that terrible experience, and seeing almost nothing. Not even any sign of resentment, for Shepard and Miranda being away from the ship and unable to protect the crew.

_I wouldn't have been so forgiving._

"I don't pretend to understand what you went through," she said at last, "but I do remember."

Kelly nodded in acceptance. "During the war, Shepard offered me a place on the _Normandy_ again, did you know that?"

"No, he never mentioned it to me."

"I wanted to accept." Kelly looked away, out toward the surf as it moved in the gathering darkness. "God, I wanted nothing more than to help him . . . but I couldn't. I couldn't face those memories. I've never been aboard that ship since."

Miranda nodded.

"Of course, being on board the Citadel all through the war wasn't much better. I lived with all those refugees on the docks, watched their suffering day after day, and there was so little I could do. Then I somehow survived those last few terrible days, when the Reapers captured the station. It was hard. It took years for me to put myself back together." Kelly looked back into Miranda's eyes. "I might not have been able to do it without Tania. She's been a tower of strength for me all along. Of course, she had her own share of bad memories from the war. Loving her taught me that I could still be a therapist, still help other people cope with their own pain."

"I see."

"So being involved with an asari isn't all that different. Just more intense, in some ways." She smiled, a sudden bright grin. "The risks can be high, but if you're brave, the rewards can be too."

Miranda smiled in return. "I'm happy for you."

Kelly cocked her head at the older woman. "You really mean that, don't you?"

"Why wouldn't I mean it?"

"Hmm. You've changed too, since our time together on _Normandy_."

"Is that your _professional_ opinion, Dr. Chambers?" Miranda inquired, her voice suddenly very cold.

To Miranda's surprise, Kelly threw her head back and _laughed_. "Now _that_ is the Miranda Lawson we all knew back in the old days. The one who _terrified_ most of us! But it's mostly an act now, isn't it?"

Miranda snorted in ironic amusement. "Yes, I suppose it is. You could read me in detail even then, couldn't you?"

"Oh yes. I may not have had your raw intelligence, or your expertise in a dozen different disciplines, but the Illusive Man didn't pick me for that crew just because I had a nice ass and an appealing personality." Kelly's smile melted, leaving a _calculating_ expression on her face. "Or just because I could put a pleasant face on Cerberus for Shepard. Not that either of us managed to fool _him_ for very long."

"No." Miranda narrowed her eyes, feeling a series of computations click into place. "You're intended to be my partner this evening, aren't you?"

"Yes." Kelly nodded, suddenly looking _not at all_ like the flighty girl Miranda remembered. "Live as one of the Shadow Broker's associates, even at second hand, and you end up working the dark side of things. You, of all people, have to know about that."

* * *

_**10 Thargelia 3364 AR (16 January 2198), Eurotas District, Armali/Thessia**_

As the night went on, Miranda experienced a rare and uncomfortable sensation: the knowledge that she had profoundly misjudged someone.

It had happened before, of course. The arrogant young woman who once called herself "an excellent judge of character" had stopped making that claim during the fight against the Collectors. She could no longer say it with a straight face, not after she had been forced to drastically revise her initial assessments of Jaqueline Nought, and Niket Desai, and the Illusive Man.

Not to mention Shepard.

Kelly Chambers, on the other hand, had been beneath her attention at the time. She had dismissed the younger woman as nothing more than a lure: sunny personality, good looks, easy sexuality, all designed to attract Shepard and encourage him to think better of Cerberus. Especially if Kelly could find her way into his bed, turning his thoughts away from a certain asari archaeologist and back toward proper _human_ relationships. Treating Kelly as a _colleague_ had not been high on Miranda's agenda.

Now Miranda realized that she had committed a serious injustice. Again.

She tagged along behind Kelly like a black-haired ghost, watching as the other woman navigated through one of Armali's oldest cultural districts with the ease of long practice. Kelly seemed to know everyone she met, asking questions and exchanging banter as if Thessia was full of her old friends. She didn't need machine translation, speaking _koiné_, High Palaveni, German, Arabic, and Mandarin with equal fluency. Even her body language changed, depending on the company.

_She doesn't have to demonstrate mental or physical superiority all the time. She doesn't have to intimidate anyone to get what she needs. She just talks to people, and they discover they _want_ to give her what she needs._

_I couldn't do that. I just don't have the right mindset for it._

_She's anything but the fluff-brained village bicycle I thought her, thirteen years ago._

"Come on," said Kelly, as they walked down a brightly lit street, swarms of people passing them on either side. "We need to talk to Yu Li."

"Who is that?"

"A cabaret singer, believe it or not." Kelly glanced up and down the street, and then began to cut across the traffic with Miranda in tow. "She came to Thessia as a refugee when she was little, right after the war. Grew up here in Armali. Even holds citizenship in the Republic."

"A human can do that?"

"The asari aren't exclusive. Even if you aren't bonded with a citizen, it's not hard. If you can speak _koiné_ fluently and pass a citizenship test, you're in. They _like_ having plenty of non-asari around. It makes sense, given their mating preferences."

Kelly and Miranda approached the front door of a busy club. Kelly seemed to know the big turian at the door, who let the two women in without hesitation. Inside, Miranda found darkness broken up by colorful lights, loud music, the sweat and heat of dozens of bodies packed into close quarters. She followed as Kelly began to elbow her way through the crowd.

Yu Li turned out to be a tall, lanky woman in her early twenties, sitting at a table off to one side of the dance floor. Sharp intelligence gleamed in her dark-brown eyes. "Hello, Kelly," she said in _koiné_. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Miranda. Any chance we can go somewhere private to talk?"

"Sure. I don't have a set for half an hour." Yu's gaze assessed Miranda closely. "I'm thinking I don't want to be seen having a long conversation with you two."

The singer had a private room in the back of the club, off a dark corridor behind the main stage. Miranda looked around, getting a feel for the occupant. Expensive clothes, tossed negligently over the furniture. A mirror and makeup set, laid out in careful order. Three bottles of hard liquor, none of them full. Flat-photos taped to the mirror: a colonial town, all pre-fab buildings and green fields. More flat-photos of a smiling Chinese couple and their small child.

Yu Li sat down in the only unoccupied chair. She made no move to offer her guests any comfort. She poured amber liquid from a bottle into a tumbler, and immediately tossed half of it down her throat. "So. What do you want?"

"There are some off-worlders in Armali," said Miranda without preamble. "Humans. Up to no good. We were told you might know something about them."

Yu grunted. "I'm not sure two of them aren't standing right in front of me."

Kelly frowned, but before she could speak, Miranda leaned forward. "Why don't you explain that?" she suggested in a cold voice.

"Come on, I've got two brain cells to rub together. I may have hung out with Kelly once or twice, but I know who she used to work for . . . and I know very well who _you_ are. _Miranda."_

Miranda nodded slowly. "That's right. I used to work for Cerberus, and so did Kelly. Is that going to be a problem?"

"Maybe." Yu looked away, her eye falling on the flat-photos taped to her mirror. "Kelly probably told you about me. I was born in the colonies. Little world called Dahai, in the Hephaistos Reach. You know it?"

Miranda felt her lips set, knowing what would come next. "I know it."

"The Collectors never hit the place. The Reapers never got there either. You know who came down one day and burned it to the ground? Carried off two-thirds of the population and left the rest of us to starve to death?"

"Kelly and I had both left Cerberus, months before that happened."

"Yeah, I know. Kelly was just a little bug anyway. But you, _you_ were the fucking _queen bee_. Mr. Illusive's right-hand woman." Yu finished her drink with a convulsive shudder. "Forgive me, if I'm a little less than enthusiastic about giving you the time of day."

_Well, that's clear enough. It's not as if I haven't come across this reaction before._

"That's fine," said Miranda calmly. "You don't have to think about this as helping me. You don't even have to think about it as helping Kelly. Think about it as helping Thessia. If Cerberus is here, whatever they have planned isn't going to be for the benefit of the asari."

Still, Yu sat quietly and didn't look at either of her guests.

"What's got you so scared?" asked Kelly.

_That_ got the woman's attention, although she didn't respond at once. She poured another tumbler full of whiskey, this time nursing the drink rather than swilling it.

"I've got lousy manners," she said at last. "Sit down, both of you. Push crap onto the floor if you have to."

Kelly took the invitation, moving a pile of clothing neatly aside and pulling the chair close to Yu, creating an intimate space. Miranda shook her head, leaning back against a wall and folding her arms.

"I like this place," said Yu at last. "I like the asari. Most of them are pretty good people. Some humans think they're stuck-up and arrogant, but I've never seen that from most of them. I think the war must have knocked them down a few pegs, I don't know."

"I like them too," said Miranda. "Your point?"

"My point is, I don't like watching what's been happening here lately." Yu glared up at Miranda for a moment. "Ever since the war, a few of them have been grabbing more and more power. I suppose they always tended to defer to the Matriarchs, but now we've got some of those old bitches acting like they know what's best for everyone, and they don't even bother trying to _persuade_ the citizens anymore. Now they just issue orders, and if you don't agree, bad things happen to you. Sound familiar, _Operative_ Lawson?"

"What kind of bad things?" asked Kelly. "Arrests? Murder?"

"Not quite that bad. Not yet." Yu shrugged. "On the other hand, a lot of people are dependent on recovery funding, if they want to rebuild a business, or put an old house back together, or reclaim some farmland. And guess who controls just about all the free capital around here?"

"So people have to obey the Matriarchs, or they never get the capital they need to stand on their own," said Miranda. "I may not know the asari as well as you do, but I know they take their independence seriously."

Kelly nodded. "Right. An asari might swear the acolyte's oath to someone, but it's supposed to be uncoerced. Something they do because they _admire_ the one they choose to follow. Being _forced_ to be someone else's subordinate . . . it goes against asari nature."

"There's something Liara told me once, right after the war," Miranda said slowly. "She said she had too many asari coming to her and offering to swear the oath out of desperation. She had to turn them down politely, and find ways to help them without putting them under that kind of obligation."

Yu made a cynical snort. "Your friend T'Soni has scruples. Some of the Matriarchs? Not so much."

"All right," said Miranda. "So we have a pack of Matriarchs being grabby. Why should that scare you?"

"Because they're turning this place into a powder-keg," Yu replied. "They've stepped on too many people. Armali is _full_ of pissed-off citizens. Matrons who lost everything in the war, and now find they have to go begging for scraps. Maidens who are tired of living under the matriarchal thumb. Non-asari citizens who remember the way things used to be, and miss the old Thessia. And _someone_ is stirring the pot."

Miranda caught Kelly's eye. "That would be our Liara."

Yu shook her head. "Uh-uh. Don't get me wrong, T'Soni has a fair number of people who listen to her, at the University and down here in the riverside districts. But she's been trying to talk people into going _slow._ Wait, don't make waves, try talking and negotiating first, that's her message. This is something else. Something bad . . . and I think it's got your old gang's fingerprints all over it."

"Why would Cerberus be interested in starting a revolution on Thessia?" Kelly wondered.

"They might have a lot of interest in starting a revolution, if they could make sure it _failed_." Miranda scowled, not liking the picture she saw. "They sometimes did things like that back on Earth, back before the war. Go into some nation-state that's having internal trouble, and use the chaos to cover a campaign of assassination and subversion. As soon as your allies are in charge, they can crack down hard and end up more powerful than before. When the dust settles, you have a new government that's both authoritarian and reliably _pro-human."_

"Did you do things like that?" Kelly asked.

"No. The Illusive Man gave me other missions, and kept me compartmented so I didn't hear about that sort of thing. I found out about it after the war, when Admiral Hackett had me going through all the records the Alliance captured from Cronos Station."

"Sounds about right," said Yu. "I've read the history books, the kind of things that went on back on Earth, in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Naked power politics. I'd hate to see that starting up here."

"Do you have any names for us?" Miranda demanded.

"I don't know who the Cerberus people might be," said Yu, shaking her head. "There's one _asari_ name I keep hearing, though. Someone who's willing to do anything, to lock down more power for herself and her cronies. Even work with off-worlders that no one else would be willing to trust."

"Give it to us, then."

"Ariadne," said Yu. _"Matriarch_ Ariadne."

* * *

Miranda and Kelly stepped back out into the street, heading back for their aircar and the journey home. They walked in silence, Miranda deep in a brown study that discouraged idle conversation. Not even the hectic gaiety of a late evening in Armali's entertainment district could catch her attention.

On the other hand, about five blocks from Yu Li's cabaret, _something_ else did.

Miranda caught Kelly's arm, pulling her to the side and into the shadow of a crumbling stone wall. From there, she peered out into the street, her face suddenly full of fierce attention.

"What is it, Miranda?" Kelly whispered.

"Over there, across the street," Miranda murmured. "Do you see those asari, armed, in commando armor?"

Three asari maidens strode down the street as if they owned it, ignoring the late-night revelers on all sides. The one in the center seemed to be their leader, walking a half-step ahead of her companions. The others watched the quarters around them, behaving like bodyguards in a high-threat environment.

Kelly nodded. "I see them."

"What about the one in the center?" Miranda asked.

The object of their attention passed by, heading back the way the humans had come. Slim and athletic she was, walking like an arrogant young predator: full lips, indigo dapples across her face, violet eyes that gleamed in the street-lights.

The red-headed woman frowned, staring at the asari as they passed. "She _does_ look familiar, but I can't place her."

"Right." Miranda opened her omni-tool and punched in a code.

The response came almost immediately. _"T'Rathis."_

"Vara, this is Miranda. I just wanted to let you know that Dr. Chambers and I are on our way back home. We're currently located on Athanasia Street, about a block north of the Tigane Theater."

Dead silence from the omni-tool, for a long moment. Then: _"Acknowledged."_

Miranda nodded to herself as she closed the device.

"What was that all about?"

"Come on," said Miranda. "We need to get out of here, before we attract attention."

Kelly followed willingly enough, but she still frowned in confusion. "This is some weird tradecraft thing, isn't it?"

"In a manner of speaking," Miranda agreed. "You'll notice how quickly Vara responded when I called. She was on watch back at the command center. Which means that her principal is out doing _something_ mildly dangerous."

Kelly drew in a surprised breath, sudden comprehension lighting up her face. "That was _Liara_ back there, wasn't it?" she said, but so quietly that no one but Miranda could have heard.

"Very likely, with two of her less well-known acolytes for close-in security. I recognized the disguise. It goes with a false identity Liara used years ago: a renegade mercenary named Kalliste Renai."

"I didn't know that, but the body language _did_ look familiar. I wonder what she's up to?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say she's taking more of a hand in this _revolution_ business than she lets on." Rather to her own surprise, Miranda found herself smiling grimly. "I think I may have some questions for our friend in the morning."


	3. Coffee and Political Science

_**11 Thargelia 3364 AR (17 January 2198), T'Soni Lineage Estates, Armali/Thessia**_

One could learn a great deal about Liara T'Soni's social circle simply by examining the _kitchen_ of her beach house: one of the largest rooms on the ground floor, adjacent to an even larger dining area. One detail in particular stood out. It was the only asari kitchen Miranda had ever seen that included a state-of-the-art coffee grinder, and an elaborate two-pot percolator.

_That immediately says that Liara has a lot of human guests. Most asari can't stand the stuff, even if it's of high quality and prepared properly. I've certainly never seen Liara drink it._

Of course, Miranda had to do a double-take when she stepped into the kitchen that morning and saw an asari standing at the machine, pouring herself a cup of black coffee.

"Good morning, Vara," she said, sitting down at the kitchen table. She tossed her head, an unconscious gesture, to settle her braid properly down her back.

The petite asari commando nodded a greeting. "Can I get you a cup?"

"Please. Black."

Vara pulled a second ceramic mug down from its hook, poured, and handed the full cup to Miranda. Then she sat down at the table, holding her own cup in both hands as if to appreciate the warmth.

"So, just what _was_ Liara doing in the Eurotas district last night?" Miranda asked casually.

Vara gave her a sharp glare over her coffee mug. "You'll have to ask her about that."

"Not denying the fact, I see."

"I won't insult your intelligence. It was simple bad luck that you and Kelly crossed her path. Although I might have known you would see through the Kalliste Renai disguise."

"I saw intel reports about the false identities Liara used, while I was still with Cerberus." Miranda gave Vara a disapproving glance. "She should know better than to re-use a persona like that. So should you."

"It wasn't a serious application of the identity," said another asari voice from the doorway.

Liara padded into the kitchen on bare feet, wearing only a white silk wrap that exposed the upper curve of her breasts and fell no further than mid-thigh. She made a face at the coffee-drinkers, and opened the refrigerator to find a bottle of fruit juice.

Miranda caught herself staring.

_I've never seen Liara so casually dressed. Or undressed, in this case. It's . . . rather striking. Somehow she looks more appealing this way than a trained asari dancer might look wearing even less._

_Which is strictly an aesthetic judgment, of course._

"She just needed to look like someone else, while she was on the streets," Vara agreed, not noticing Miranda's momentary confusion. "Nobody looks twice at a few maidens in commando gear, out late at night. Not even in the Eurotas district."

Liara sat down at the table, popping open a bottle of reddish-orange juice. "You have need-to-know on this, Miranda. I went downtown to meet with several of the most influential dissidents. That includes students and faculty from the University, a few artists from the entertainment industry, and at least one very powerful _hetaira_._"_

Miranda smiled slightly, covering her flash of amusement by sipping her coffee.

_Only among asari would a high-class _courtesan_ have that kind of political clout._

_Well, be fair. Even among humans, with our mucked-up gender politics, it's been known to happen. At least with asari, you've never had half the population forced to dance attendance on the other half in order to get anything done._

Liara's gaze caught Miranda's for an instant, and then she made a small smile as well, as if she had guessed the human's thought.

"It was a productive meeting," she continued. "The students did get to present their demands yesterday, but by evening the board of _archons_ had rejected the whole manifesto. A few students even went to see Matriarch Kleitho at her residence last night, and although she made sympathetic noises, she refused to take any action. _All asari need to work together in this difficult time,_ she said."

Vara snorted in derision.

"Right," said Miranda, scornfully. "There never _is_ a good time to seek reforms, when you happen to be at the top of the heap."

"Just so," Liara agreed. "So the dissidents have decided to escalate. Until now, there hasn't been a unified movement, just individual leaders who had influence with one group or another. Last night, they decided to join forces and work to a common strategy."

"Pronoun trouble," said Vara.

Miranda cocked an eyebrow at the commando.

"I beg your pardon?" Liara inquired.

"_Despoina,_ you keep using the third person plural," Vara observed. _"They_ decided to escalate. _They_ decided to join forces. _They_ will work to a common strategy."

Suddenly, Liara looked down at the table-top rather than hold her acolyte's gaze. "Well . . . I may have made a few suggestions, in the course of the discussion."

"Did the others reject any of your _suggestions?"_

"They – all right, _we_ – ended up modifying one or two of them." Liara's color deepened. "Vara, you know how I feel about this. This has to be something the people of Armali do for themselves."

"You're a citizen of Armali," Miranda said gently.

"I know, but I'm also the _Shadow Broker,_ and everyone knows that. They _expect_ me to bring all that off-world power and influence to bear. Last night, some of the dissidents kept hinting at what _someone_ might be able to do with a well-placed assassination or commando raid. Then they would stare at me, out of the corner of their eyes." Liara shook her head violently. "I keep telling them: that's exactly what the more reactionary Matriarchs expect me to do, and they're certainly ready to respond in kind. We have to find a different way."

"If you don't act, _despoina,_ sooner or later the Matriarchs will," Vara muttered angrily.

"Then the moral burden will rest with them." Liara watched her acolyte, her eyes suddenly full of compassion. "Erato was there."

Vara frowned. "Of _course_ she was. With your permission, _despoina,_ I need to attend to the watch roster."

Liara nodded. Vara rose from the table, abruptly drank the last of her coffee while standing, dropped the empty mug into the sink, and stalked out of the room.

"Who's Erato?" Miranda asked quietly, once the commando was out of earshot.

"A junior instructor at the University," Liara murmured. "She teaches undergraduate classes in history and political science. She is also one of the more outspoken dissidents. She and Vara have been lovers for about a year now."

Miranda nodded silently in understanding.

"Vara has a great deal on her mind these days. My work as the Shadow Broker, our effort to help recovery throughout the galaxy, all of this takes up a great deal of her time and energy. Now she must also worry over what is happening in Armali. She has lived most of her life here. She has many friends in the city, on both sides of the dispute. Most of all, she fears for Erato. She is afraid that her lover's courage puts her in grave danger."

Miranda sighed in weary disgust. "You know, I once thought the Reapers were the worst thing we could possibly face. Somehow we beat them. Now, we can't find anything better to do than go back to the same old bloody squabbling?"

Liara glanced away, a shadow crossing her face. "Just because the Reapers have gone, doesn't mean we all get to turn into saints."

"No, I suppose not." Miranda took another sip of her coffee, frowning to herself.

_Something odd about Liara's phrasing, just now._

She shook her head when the thought refused to come clear, and glanced to the side, out a big bay window and down the shallow slope to the ocean. "Liara, there's something I've always wondered about, and maybe you can explain it to me."

"What is it?"

"Well, we keep referring to _the Matriarchs_ as the opposing side in this political dispute. _The Matriarchs_ have too many privileges. _The Matriarchs_ are reactionaries. _The Matriarchs_ are posing a threat to the rights and liberties of other citizens of Armali." Miranda set her cup down, so she could make a confused gesture with both hands. "I don't understand how being a Matriarch is so fraught with consequences for your position and outlook. Doesn't it just mean you've gone through . . . I don't know . . . the asari equivalent of menopause?"

Liara laughed. "Yes, that _is_ part of what it means. Sometime in her eighth century, an asari will normally undergo a series of physiological and psychological changes. The shape of her body and face change slightly. She is no longer able to easily conceive and bear children, although it does sometimes happen – my own mother was already a Matriarch when I was born. Her biotic abilities reach their peak. She becomes more cautious and conservative. She develops greater empathy for others, more ability to guess what they are thinking through nonverbal cues. She gains greater inherent _areté_ – you might call it greater _charisma_ – and younger asari are much more likely to defer to her opinion."

"Yes, I understand all that." Miranda leaned back, frowning, as she struggled to articulate her confusion. "It just doesn't seem to be _enough_. Asari have had libertarian democracy for thousands of years. It seems so natural for you. It's strange to hear of any asari polity that _doesn't_ have some form of rule of law, and a citizen assembly as its highest sovereign authority."

Liara nodded, one hand reaching back to fiddle with her crest. "Well, there's Illium, but that's something of an outlier. For that matter, even on Illium we have rule of law and a sovereign citizen assembly. It's just that there are almost no laws, and only twelve citizens who count."

"Of course, even on Illium, most of the Twelve are Matriarchs." Miranda shrugged. "How is it that the same small minority of your population always seems to end up in charge?"

"Oh, it's even worse than you think." Liara smiled. "The asari lifespan is divided into three stages, and we spend roughly the same amount of time in each, right? So you might expect Matriarchs to be about a third of the population."

Miranda frowned, biting back an immediate response.

"Right. You know it can't be that simple. Asari don't all live to be a thousand! In fact, a third of all asari die before they even reach the _matron_ stage. Less than half survive to become Matriarchs at all."

"I looked at the statistics once. I wasn't certain I believed them."

"Believe them. Even in peacetime, an asari maiden is _far_ more likely to die of accident or violence than a young human might be. Maidens tend to be hot-headed, risk-prone and ready for a fight."

Miranda _stared_ across the table at her friend.

Liara made an uneasy smile. "Well. I may not be _hot-headed,_ but I've still put myself through some rather astonishing risks. Not to mention racking up an enormous body count, as my father once pointed out."

"Maybe it comes from being one-quarter krogan," Miranda suggested slyly.

"That's Aethyta's theory, certainly." Liara shrugged. "In any case, it's not that even our maidens are all _that_ much more accident-prone or violent than, say, humans. In any given year, our death rates due to accident, suicide, or violent assault are only slightly higher than those of a typical human society. It's just that we live such a long time, and our death rates due to natural causes are so _low_. It's not until an asari reaches her ninth century that the probabilities shift, and her most likely cause of death becomes age or disease."

"That's very interesting, Liara, but I'm afraid I don't see the point of this line of reasoning."

"Patience, Miranda. So Matriarchs aren't as common in the asari population as you might think. No more than about one in eight of us, on the average. The next thing to realize is that not all Matriarchs are equal. You think _Matriarch_ and you imagine someone like my mother Benezia, at the height of her power: thousands of sworn acolytes, guaranteed speaking privileges in the _ekklesia_, _millions_ of asari who considered her their favorite orator. But most Matriarchs aren't like that. They're more like my father, before she got an unexpected surge in influence during the war. Ordinary citizens, with purely nominal matriarchal privileges, not a single acolyte in their following, and no political power to speak of. Can you guess the difference?"

"Money," said Miranda flatly.

"That's exactly right. Money."

"It makes sense. Before the war, your civilization was monumentally stable. You're technologically advanced, but the rate of innovation, the arrival of _new_ technology, has been slow for centuries. You don't colonize new worlds very often. Your population growth is very slow, less than one-tenth of a percent per year." Miranda spread her hands out flat, palms down, as if to hold something motionless. "All of that means your economy is almost a closed system. There's very little opportunity for anyone to build _new_ wealth, only to struggle for some of the wealth that already exists."

Liara smiled. "You're quoting old Cerberus intel assessments."

"We believed in understanding our potential enemies." Miranda took a sip of her coffee, only to find that it had gone cold. She set it aside with a grimace of distaste. "Human economists have understood the dangers of a situation like that for a long time. Since your economy is stable and nearly closed, it tends to operate like a zero-sum game. For one person to gain, someone else has to lose. Unless some pressure exists to redistribute wealth, it tends to accumulate in fewer and fewer hands. The best way to come into a large fortune becomes to _inherit_ it, rather than to build it from scratch, and that makes the wealthy increasingly aristocratic and reactionary."

"Which brings us to the intersection between wealth and political power," said Liara quietly. "You humans and your _representative_ democracies have some experience with this. Very wealthy humans can afford to buy the attention and favor of their political representatives. Ordinary citizens are priced out of the market, and get ignored. Laws get written and enforced in ways that rig the game in favor of the already wealthy."

"But you don't _have_ representative democracy," Miranda objected. "Every asari citizen can take part in the Assembly. Nobody can bribe the entire electorate."

"Of course they can! Surely I don't have to teach a former Cerberus operative about the benefits of _propaganda_." Liara shook her head ruefully. "A little populist flattery, a little misinformation, a logical fallacy or two, plenty of appeals to emotion . . . asari aren't any less susceptible than humans to this kind of memetic manipulation. I've done research to determine the return-on-investment a Matriarch can expect, when she buys influence in the _ekklesia_. The figures are startling. It's one of the best and most reliable investments any wealthy asari can make."

Miranda grunted in surprise. "I always thought your people were . . ."

"More enlightened? More sophisticated?" Liara made a cynical snort. "No. We're just better at concealing this from outsiders, perhaps even from ourselves. Before the war, the top hundred asari fortunes controlled over _two-thirds_ of the wealth on Thessia – and all but six of those hyper-wealthy asari were Matriarchs. _Those _are the real powers on this planet, and in the Asari Republics as a whole. Those are the people we're really talking about, when we speak of _the Matriarchs_ who are interested in ruling the asari for their own benefit. This isn't anything new, either. The situation has been essentially unchanged for over a thousand years."

"How can such a structure be so stable?" Miranda wondered. "Among humans, that level of disparity in wealth always leads to some kind of political upheaval."

"Well, Thessia _as a whole_ has been wealthy for a long time." Liara acquired an abstracted look, as if she performed lightning-fast computations in her head. "We haven't seen anything close to real _poverty_ in over a thousand years, either. It might not matter so much if your wealthiest citizens can buy and sell whole planets, so long as Citizen Kleo has plenty to eat, a nice apartment to live in, and the ability to entertain herself as she pleases."

"Aha!" Miranda leaned forward, her eyes glittering with sudden insight. "There _is_ poverty on Thessia _now."_

"Yes." Liara nodded slowly, smiling as if pleased to see Miranda leap to the point. "The long-established rule of _the Matriarchs_ has suddenly proven to be . . . not so good for the ordinary asari after all. That rule kept our true relationship with the Protheans a secret for thousands of years. It kept silent about the Reapers until it was far too late. It stood back and refused to help our allies when the Reapers attacked them. It left Thessia completely unprepared for the disaster, when the Reapers finally came here.

"And now that _monumentally stable_ civilization we used to have has been shattered into a thousand pieces! All that patiently accumulated wealth has been scattered to the winds! We're going to _have_ to innovate – in technology, in our society, in our culture. We're going to have to have a population boom, recover some of the numbers we've lost. We need to do all of that, if we want to stay relevant in the galaxy at all.

"The ordinary citizens of Thessia are starting to realize all that. They're starting to understand the implications . . . and _the Matriarchs_ are far ahead of the general public on that particular curve, and _they_ are _terrified_. They know our society is about to stop being that closed system, that zero-sum game. It means they might have to compete for their places, in ways they've never had to face before. They will do _anything_ to try to turn back the clock, hang onto the privileges to which they're accustomed.

"That would be a disaster for the asari people. Maybe for the whole galaxy, if one of the keystones of galactic civilization ended up self-destructing. We _can't_ let it happen."

Miranda stared across the table, watching Liara with astonishment. The asari's voice had risen, filling with color and verve. She had made broad gestures, looking as if she wanted to leap out of her chair at any moment. Her eyes had shone and her face had colored with genuine passion.

_Somehow, I still tend think of her as a quiet and rather ineffectual little scientist. I tend to forget that she took over the Shadow Broker's network, and ran it successfully even during the worst war in galactic history. I tend to forget that she played more than once against the Illusive Man – and against me – and won more often than she lost._

_I really need to stop underestimating this asari. Especially when she becomes this . . . compelling._

"You know," Miranda said, "your mother was one of _the Matriarchs."_

Liara laughed, her moment of passionate conviction dispelled. "So she was. Perhaps not on the scale of the great powers of Thessia, but she played the same game they did. Not to mention that she left me quite the fortune, to get me off to a good start when I finally chose to walk in her footsteps."

Miranda let a trace of ironic humor creep into her voice. "So, T'Soni, I suppose that makes you something of a _class traitor_. As we humans would say."

That got more of a reaction than the human had expected. Liara's eyes flew wide, her breath caught in her throat, and she sat tensely still for an instant. Then she relaxed, and Miranda could see that it came as a deliberate effort of will.

"Well," Liara said at last, putting whatever-it-was aside. "I believe _the Matriarchs_ already agree with you."


	4. Blood in the Streets

_**11 Thargelia 3364 AR (17 January 2198), Eurotas District, Armali/Thessia**_

Once again Miranda found herself in the midst of a crowd of asari, as they prepared to undertake some collective action. This time she had arrived on the scene _before_ the procession got under way. She stood in an Armali street, in the middle of a gathering throng, watching an asari she didn't know give a speech from atop a makeshift platform.

There certainly seemed to be _more_ asari today, flocking in the narrow street. Miranda tried to estimate the size of the crowd, but gave up after a moment. No way to count the ones spilling out into side streets and vacant lots, or the new ones that arrived every minute.

"Comms check," she said quietly.

"_Clear,"_ said Vara's voice. Other asari voices followed, more of Liara's lead acolytes: _"Clear . . . clear . . . clear."_

"No sign of trouble," Miranda reported. "I think they're getting ready to set out."

"_Understood,"_ said Vara. _"We have eyes on the crowd."_

Miranda glanced up. Liara's camera drones were almost impossible to spot against the blue-and-gray sky, but their stealth systems couldn't _quite_ render them invisible. The eye occasionally caught fleeting movement up there, or a transition when a drone moved between clear sky and clouds.

"Armali city militia?" she asked quietly.

"_In position. Our hooks in their C2 network are active. No sign of any preparations for violence."_

Miranda nodded to herself, and began to ease closer to the center of the crowd.

". . . Some have said that our movement holds the Matriarchs in contempt," the asari on the platform declaimed in elegant _koiné_. "Nothing could be farther from the truth. Age, experience, wisdom, these are all things that every asari should hold in the deepest respect. Yet simply being a Matriarch does not _guarantee_ wisdom or sound moral judgment. A Matriarch can err in word or deed, and many have. When she does, should we not recognize the fact, and call her to account for it, just as we might do for anyone else? To do so is not to hold her, or all Matriarchs, in contempt. If anything, it is to respect her for what she is, a moral agent with the same standing as any of us, one whose words and actions have an effect on the universe."

_Not exactly firebrand rhetoric_, Miranda thought, looking around at the quiet crowd. _On the other hand, she certainly has everyone's attention. I know asari aren't any more likely to be swayed by pure reason than humans. She must be using code words I don't know how to recognize. Either that, or she's building up to something more confrontational._

"Then why do some of our opponents lie about our movement, claiming that we hold all Matriarchs in contempt? It is because of _privilege_, sisters. Privilege that the Matriarchs have held _as a class_ for too many centuries. Privilege which permits a few of the Matriarchs to hoard the wealth of Thessia, leaving the rest of us to subsist on scraps and leavings. Privilege which permits them to make their voices heard in the shadows, while the rest of us are silenced in the Assembly. Privilege which permits them to strangle the substance of democracy, even while they cynically permit us to put on a hollow show of its forms."

"Who is this, on the platform?" Miranda subvocalized, for the comm link.

"_That's Erato,"_ said Vara's voice, quietly.

Miranda blinked, examining the speaker with new eyes: an asari of average height, slim but athletic, with sharp features and bright blue eyes. She had a striking set of bars and stripes on her face, the markings so dark as to be almost black.

_Like an asari in a raccoon mask. Not exactly a look designed to attract a human eye, but Vara must find it compelling. Certainly she has a strong enough personality to appeal._

"The principle of social equality would suggest that no asari should expect to hold such privileges as if they were inalienable rights," Erato continued. "Yet some of the Matriarchs do expect that! They regard this privilege as a matter of natural law, the universe smiling upon them and blessing their so-called aristocracy! Naturally they regard any challenge as a crime, as a violation of the natural order of things. They regard any criticism as an _attack_, as an expression of hatred or contempt. Perhaps it is easy for them to do so, for _they_ certainly hold _us_ in contempt, sisters."

The gathering began to murmur, a ripple of angry feminine voices surging across the open square.

Erato stepped forward, standing at the very edge of the platform. She slowly spread her arms, rising them above her head, and scanned the upturned faces of the multitude. "Yet who works in the fields and factories that the Matriarchs own?" she cried.

"We do!" came a low roar from the crowd.

"Who defends the Matriarchs from their enemies?"

"We do!"

"Who maintains order in the city streets, so that the Matriarchs can sleep peacefully in their homes?"

"We do! We do!"

"Who entertains the Matriarchs in their idle hours?"

"_We do!"_

"Who attends the Assembly, providing a show of democracy so the Matriarchs can rule from the shadows in peace?"

"_We do, sister! We do!"_

"_We. Are. Asari!"_ Erato shouted. "We are heirs to twenty thousand years of freedom and democracy! The poorest among us is no less a citizen, the wealthiest no more. Yet from time to time, we forget. Every few centuries, patriotism and civic virtue drop off into a deep slumber, lulled by easy living and a thousand bright distractions. We decide it's easier to let someone else make the decisions. Let someone else take the risks. So long as our rulers keep us happy and comfortable, why not leave them to it, and enjoy all that the universe has to offer?

"Then something comes along to threaten our way of life. The rachni. The krogan militant. The Reapers. And we wake up, and stare around us blinking in the harsh light of day, and wonder how things could have been permitted to reach such a pass. We notice just how alien the world has become, while we were enjoying our pleasant dreams. Then we start to remember what it _means_ to be asari. What it means for _all of us_ to speak, _all of us_ to serve, _all of us_ to take the risks that make our lives worth living.

"It's that time again. Are you ready to be asari?"

A roar from ten thousand throats: _"YES!"_

"Then let us march to the Plaza of Explorers once more, and remind the Matriarchs of it too!"

Erato jumped down from the edge of the platform, into the midst of a swarm of reaching hands and grinning asari faces. She began to walk, at a deliberate pace, and the crowd began to move with her.

Miranda shook her head in wonder.

_If I'm not mistaken, she just managed to criticize young asari as well as the Matriarchs, and get them to love her for it._

_I've never been a talented political operative. I'm a knife in the dark, not a voice whispering in anyone's ear. I can still recognize raw charisma when I see it._

Miranda pushed through the crowd, until she was only a few meters away from the dissident leader. She relaxed, walking with the flow of the asari around her, pushing her awareness out along all her lines of sight. She watched without conscious attention, listened for the first sign of something out of place.

"I'm following Erato," she said to the comms. "After that speech, she's probably a target."

Silence on the channel for a long moment, and then Vara: _"She has been for some time now. Thank you, Miranda."_

At first everything seemed fine. The march made its way through the Eurotas district, picking up more and more asari along the way, even a few humans, turians, and salarians as well. The atmosphere felt more charged than on the previous day, more anger and determination in the faces on all sides. Miranda kept her eyes open, picking out Liara's drones overhead, the occasional militia spotter on the rooftops.

"Miranda!"

She turned and saw a young, violet-skinned asari pushing her way through the mass of others, a wide grin on her face. "Hello, Yesira."

"You're here from the beginning this time, I see." Impetuously, Yesira reached out and _hugged_ Miranda, ignoring the sudden stiffness of the human's spine. "Where's Matron Vara?"

Miranda made a vague gesture toward the sky. "She's watching over us."

Yesira nodded, a knowing expression on her face. "Rumor has it that T'Soni is becoming involved. About time! I know she doesn't want to see this get out of hand, but she could do so much good here. One of the most powerful _maidens_ in Armali history. She's a living example of everything we're arguing for."

"Her lineage doesn't bother you?"

The young asari frowned for a moment. "Benezia, you mean?"

Miranda nodded in agreement, glancing around again to maintain situational awareness.

"Benezia was everything we're arguing _against," _said Yesira. "A powerful Matriarch who kept secrets from the public, made decisions on everyone's behalf without consultation, and made mistakes that nearly killed all of us. If the cabal she represented had been honest about the Temple beacon and its contents . . . Goddess, we could have built the Crucible and stopped the Reapers _centuries_ ago. But I don't think anyone in the dissident movement holds Liara to blame for any of that. She did more than any other asari to make up for her mother's crimes."

Miranda nodded in agreement, but then she found herself distracted. She looked at one rooftop, one street corner after another, and noticed something had gone missing.

_Where have the militia gone?_

"Vara," she muttered. "What's happening with the Armali militia?"

Yesira frowned.

"_Stand by,"_ came an asari voice. Not Vara.

Miranda thought quickly. "Yesira, how are your biotics? You mentioned yesterday that you had to fight a few Reaper troops when they were on Thessia."

"I don't have commando training, but my mother always insisted that I learn to defend myself." Yesira stared at Miranda. "Why?"

"You might want to gather a few of your friends and stay close by Erato. Just in case."

The maiden opened her mouth to protest, but then thought better of it. She gave Miranda a tense nod and moved off, as quickly as the mass of people would allow.

"_Armali militia has been ordered to withdraw,"_ said the comms, the same glacially calm asari voice. Miranda recognized it now: Nerylla, Vara's second-in-command. For a moment she wondered where Vara had gone, and then she dismissed it as irrelevant.

"If the militia has been ordered out, then the _archons_ are either planning to let the protest go on freely, or they have something else in mind and they don't trust the militia to carry out their plan." Miranda checked the perimeter of the procession again, a cold ball of fear forming in her gut. "Do you have _any_ clue as to which it is?"

"_Not yet. Stand by."_

"You're bloody well _right,_ I will _stand by,"_ Miranda muttered, first making sure her comm was _not_ engaged. She deliberately moved closer to the head of the procession, dodging around knots and clumps of asari, until she could almost reach out and touch Erato's shoulder.

The march turned a corner and began to move up a wide thoroughfare, the Plaza of Explorers about a kilometer ahead.

Miranda checked the perimeter. Still no sign of the Armali militia.

Then, without warning, blue-white light flashed almost in Miranda's face. An eruption of force detonated with a sound like a cannon shot, sending her ears ringing.

All across the front of the procession, in a matter of seconds, more of the same. Flash-_boom_. Flash-_boom_. Flash-_boom._

Asari recoiled, some of them knocked off their feet entirely, screaming in shock and pain.

Miranda's corona ignited, blue light forming a nimbus around her head and shoulders, crawling down her arms. She made a snap assessment of the situation.

_Vanguards: _half a dozen of them, asari in black commando dress, flash-charging up to the procession's front line to throw it into chaos. Now more asari ran out into the street behind the vanguards, their own coronas already active, biotic _throws_ lashing out to knock marchers off their feet.

Miranda heard shouting from _behind_ her, and to the sides. She knew the dissidents had encountered the same black-clad threat approaching from the side streets.

The march came to a confused, milling halt.

Up ahead, a line of commandos now stretched across the street. Miranda could see they carried firearms, but for now they were only plying their biotics, continuing to knock down the front line of the procession.

Miranda stepped forward, pushing confused asari aside, until she reached the very front of the crowd. Then she put both hands out and slammed a biotic barrier into place. Not enough to cover the whole width of the street, but enough to oppose the commandos in her own vicinity.

"We're being kettled out here," she snapped into the comm. "I have asari in unmarked commando dress blocking all the streets, carrying sidearms and putting active biotics into play. Give me an escape route!"

Then she felt support from either side, asari dissidents bringing their own biotics to bear. For a moment Miranda's barrier fluttered, then asari began to synch in, spreading the protective shield across the full width of the street. For a moment she was reminded of the last time she had worked as part of a biotic team, linked in with Samara and Jack to keep seeker swarms at bay in the bowels of the Collector base. She glanced to one side and saw Yesira there, her corona fully alight, looking afraid but determined.

Standing three meters away, one of the commandos stared at Miranda, her eyes suddenly wide. Perhaps it was surprise, to see a human standing in the front ranks of the protest march, wielding biotic power to match an asari adept.

Or perhaps it was recognition. One hand went to the side of the asari's head, as she made a comm call.

_Oh, bloody hell._

"_The commandos are Black Hand,"_ said Nerylla, still distantly rational. _"Violent and extremely dangerous. Get out of there, Miranda."_

"Can't." Miranda focused, trying to make her section of the barrier as hard as diamond. "I'm a keystone. I move and the front of the march is wide open."

Someone jostled Miranda from behind. Then it happened again, and she heard panicked shouting from somewhere back there. The dissidents were being _compressed_, the cordon winding tighter with each moment.

"Ms. Lawson," said another asari voice, just behind Miranda and to her left. She didn't bother to look, recognizing the timbre of it from the speech on the platform.

"Bring down your barrier," said Erato. "This isn't your fight."

"Like hell it isn't," Miranda hissed, through clenched teeth.

"_To the north, along Latheia Street and Kysandra Street,"_ said Nerylla's voice suddenly. _"The cordon is thinner there, and Vara is about to hit the Black Hand with a commando team from behind. Once the marchers get out, they'll be able to scatter in a maze of buildings to the north."_

"Acknowledged." Miranda glanced over her shoulder. "Matron Erato. There's about to be an escape route available along Kysandra and Latheia Streets. I suggest you direct the march to make a breakout in that direction. I'll cover you from here."

There was only silence for a moment, and then: "Very well. Goddess keep you safe."

Miranda bared her teeth, a frigid expression that only vaguely resembled a smile. Then she concentrated for a moment, the fingers on her outstretched hands flexing slightly.

_Watch this_, she thought.

Suddenly the blue-white curtain of Miranda's barrier _flashed_, causing the nearest commandos to flinch. At least one of them drew her sidearm, and then hesitated as she wondered where to shoot. The barrier began to shimmer, displaying a coruscating moiré pattern that slowly extended out into her allies' sections, all the way across the street.

"What is that?" asked Yesira, her voice full of wonder.

"A technique an asari justicar once showed me," said Miranda. "You put a little rhythmic flutter into your biotic output. It takes fine control, but if you do it correctly, the barrier becomes almost impossible to see through. Almost as good as popping smoke."

"You'll have to teach me."

"If we have the time. Is Matron Erato moving?"

Just then Miranda heard a ripple of loud explosions, behind her and to her right: the sound of biotic singularities being detonated.

_I'd say Liara is back there. That's almost a signature technique for her._

She also heard gunfire. Not much of it, not yet, but _any at all_ was a matter for concern.

"Erato is on her way," Yesira reported, excited. "Everyone is moving. Come on, Miranda!"

"Not yet. Someone has to hold this barrier in place."

"The commandos already know what's happening. You don't need to keep up the concealment."

"Hmm. All right." Miranda raised her voice. "You asari supporting the barrier! On three, drop it and _run!"_

A ragged chorus of agreement.

"One. Two. _Three!"_

The barrier fell, Miranda suddenly face to face with a wide-eyed commando. Quick as thought, she made a biotic _throw_ to knock the Black Hand sister back on her heels. Then she turned and _sprinted_ after the last of the vanishing dissidents, wishing _hard_ for her own sidearm. Yesira ran at her side, all youthful grace.

The maiden was actually _laughing_ at the escapade as she ran, the little fool.

The tactical situation seemed . . . better than expected. Asari on other sides of the march had reacted as quickly as Miranda, putting up their own protective barriers and keeping the Black Hand at bay for a few critical moments. Once an escape route appeared, the crowd had moved with surprising discipline.

Miranda turned a corner onto Kysandra Street. She saw asari and other dissidents scattering into the city, and no commandos but a few who wore Liara's livery while directing traffic.

"Vara!"

The petite acolyte turned, sword held at her side, and gave Miranda a grim smile. "Good to see you. We need to get off the streets."

"Too right." Miranda turned to Yesira. "You'd better come with us . . ."

To the last day she lived, the image stayed with Miranda, seared into her memory.

The young asari, slamming to a halt less than a meter away, a wild grin of excitement on her face. Her lips parting to say something.

The gout of indigo blood that erupted from the center of her chest.

Miranda barely noticed the flare of her corona, as it shed the spent round that had transfixed Yesira. She felt nothing but the maiden's body, as it pitched forward into her arms. She saw nothing but the maiden's face, excitement shading into momentary confusion, and then into the vacancy of death.

"Miranda. Miranda!"

Vara and the other acolytes had formed a protective phalanx, looking around in every direction for the sniper. Someone else was shaking Miranda's shoulders, trying to pull her attention away from the dead asari in her lap.

Liara.

"Blast it, Miranda, _they're shooting at you!"_

_What?_

Then her mind processed the image a little further. Realized what the trajectory of the shot meant.

Realized that Yesira had died because she had been _in the way._

She looked down at the young asari's face once more, and then gently eased out from under the body. She rose to her feet, feeling suddenly very old and tired. She went with her friends, fleeing from the disaster. Her mind concentrated on the blood on her hands, and the cold knot of rage forming in the pit of her stomach.


	5. Planning Session

**_11 Thargelia 3364 AR (17 January 2198), T'Soni Lineage Estates, Armali/Thessia_**

Miranda slumped motionless against the wall of the refresher cubicle, barely aware of the warm water that cascaded down upon her. Out of its braid, her hair lay heavily along her back, sodden with moisture. Her throat felt raw, and her eyes burned.

She looked down at her hands, at her long, strong, elegantly tapered fingers.

_The best hands Father's money could buy. They can operate a computer, pilot a spaceship, fire a weapon, or make a violin sing. They even brought the dead back to life once._

_Not this time. The blood is gone, but it will always be there._

She took a deep breath and reached up to push wet hair out of her face. She finished the task of bathing, with quick, efficient movements. She turned the water off. Stepping out of the cubicle, she pulled a fluffy towel from a nearby rack.

She caught a glimpse of herself in a full-length mirror. Applying the towel to her hair, she gave her body a critical examination.

_The machine is still in good working order_, she decided. _Bench strength, sprinting and long-distance running speed, reaction time, visual and auditory acuity, all still within five percent of optimum. I haven't had to step up my training regimen yet to keep the pace. I can still attract the attention of most men, a few women, and – apparently – some asari._

She found herself brushing fingertips across one cheekbone, where Kai Leng had come _that close_ to taking out her eye, one afternoon on Horizon. The mark had long since faded to invisibility.

_The scars are all where they don't show_.

_Damn that girl. If only she hadn't gotten in the way . . ._

Miranda shook her head impatiently, forcing her face back to steely impassiveness, her eyes to glacial cold.

_No one's fault but your own, Miranda Lawson. She took a shot that was meant for you. If you hadn't been there, or if you had been a fraction of a second faster, she would still be alive._

_Still be alive to look at you, with that expression in her face. Laughter, and admiration, and something else you didn't quite permit yourself to notice._

_She was probably older than you by count of years, but asari mature so slowly. She was smart and fresh and enthusiastic, and you could have had her in your bed at the cost of a half-dozen words._

_Admit it, you were curious. You like asari. You wondered what it would have been like. Not to mention, bloody hell, it's been _fifteen years_. Far too long to be alone._

_Too late now. Too late for anything except revenge._

Miranda finished drying off, leaving her hair loose so it could give up the rest of its moisture to the air. She stepped out into the room Liara had loaned her, to pull on her black-and-gold body armor once more. Without hesitation, without much conscious thought, she checked all her gear. The omni-tool. The comm. The combat knife.

The Carnifex heavy pistol that she had carried when she killed her own father.

_Click_, and the ammo display showed blood-red for incendiaries.

_Ready_.

* * *

The war council took place in Liara's kitchen, which almost felt crowded with five asari and two humans clustered around the table. Vara and Erato sat in a corner by the big bay window, holding hands and watching with keen attention. Nerylla and Tania sat to either side of the kitchen table, ready to wrangle data and reports. Kelly Chambers sat silently next to Tania, a cup of coffee in her hand. Liara presided from the head of the table, wearing her white-and-blue mission outfit, a solemn expression on her face. Liara's information drone, Glyph, hovered where it could project imagery for everyone to see. Miranda leaned against the refrigerator and listened.

Nerylla was tall and athletic, built with generous curves, rather like a blue-skinned replica of Miranda. Her slate-blue face was clear of markings except for a few dark flecks around her eyes and cheekbones, and her eyes were a startling jade-green. She was the oldest of Liara's acolytes, nearly at the point of becoming a matron, an experienced mercenary veteran. She made her report with crisp, succinct language, and no sign of the deep anger Miranda knew she must be feeling.

She pointed into a holographic map superimposed over the kitchen table. "We had a good angle on the shot from two drones, which enabled us to get a clear trajectory. Miranda was clearly the target."

Miranda nodded to herself, her lips tight with the effort to keep herself from snarling.

"When the shot arrived, Miranda was _here_, lined up almost perfectly for the bullet to strike through her center of mass. Yesira was _here_. She took the bullet instead, slowing and deflecting it enough that Miranda's barriers could shed the spent round. However – allowing for flight time, and a reasonable estimate for an asari sniper's reaction speed – when the shot was taken, Miranda was _here_ and Yesira was _here_. The sniper could not have intended to hit Yesira." Nerylla sighed, her first sign of emotion. "She just . . . moved into the line of fire."

"Where did the shot come from?" Liara asked calmly.

"Here." At Nerylla's gesture, Glyph zoomed in on a six-story building about two city blocks away. "The sniper made her nest behind this second-floor window, where she had a good view up the length of Kysandra Street. It's an apartment, currently vacant. Tania led a team to search the place, but they didn't find any clues. Whoever the sniper was, she was meticulous in cleaning up after herself."

Miranda frowned. "The sniper must have set up in there well before the protest march got under way. If I was the target, how did she know I was going to be there?"

"It's no secret that you're on Thessia," said Liara. "Any number of people could have seen you at yesterday's march, and set this up just in case you appeared again. You said one of the Black Hand sisters seemed to recognize you?"

"Too right. She called in the moment she saw me in the front line of the march." Miranda gave Liara a sharp glance. "Who are these Black Hand, anyway?"

"They're new." Liara shook her head, frowning in distaste. "You may recall that Eclipse lost most of their asari leadership cadre during the war. Jaroth, Wasea, and Enyala were all charter members of the organization. None of them survived their encounters with Shepard during the campaign against the Collectors."

Miranda made a grim smile. _Liara must not know that I killed Enyala myself._

"Then the organization's founder, Jona Sederis, was arrested on the Citadel just before the Reapers attacked Khar'Shan. Shepard arranged for her release from prison – and her assassination – as part of an effort to get Eclipse into the war effort. In the end, that shattered Eclipse."

Liara tapped at her omni-tool, calling up a new diagram to hover in mid-air over the table. A table of organization, with faces and data attached.

"The biggest part of the organization followed a salarian officer named Butralo Sayn. They worked for Aria during the war, and they're still based on Omega. They call themselves the _Unconquered Sun_ these days. They've re-branded themselves, recruiting purely on the basis of toughness and talent, and they've lost almost all of their distinctively asari character." For a moment, Liara looked almost _embarrassed_. "Another large segment of Eclipse . . . well, they work for _me_ now."

Grim chuckles, from around the table.

"Nerylla, Tania, and a few others approached my father after Colonel Sederis died, and she sent them to me to swear the acolyte's oath. Many more than that came to work in the Shadow Broker organization, as simple hirelings. Most of my asari agents and operatives are former Eclipse."

"The best part of Eclipse, in my opinion," said Vara.

Nerylla didn't react, still staring at the map on the kitchen table. Tania, younger and more impulsive, gave Vara a thankful grin.

"I can hardly disagree," said Liara, "especially in comparison with the last major segment. You may recall that Colonel Sederis had an inner circle, almost a secret society, made up purely of asari maidens. They got the best pay and the best assignments, and plenty of opportunity to indulge all their vices. In return, Sederis expected them to display fanatic loyalty and accept high-risk missions."

"I remember," said Miranda. "They had to commit a murder to become part of the sisterhood."

Liara nodded. "Needless to say, _I_ didn't take any of the sisters on. Some of them went to the Unconquered Sun, although Captain Sayn deprived them of any special privileges, and put them under the same discipline as all his other soldiers. But some of the ones who survived the war seem to have picked up where Colonel Sederis left off. Violent initiations, species exclusivity, a cult of in-group superiority, all of it."

"They're as bad as any group you could find on Omega, back before Aria decided to clamp down," said Vara in disgust. "Murder, kidnapping, terrorism, sabotage, smuggling, piracy, all for the highest bidder. Operating right here on the homeworld."

"What's their connection to the Matriarchs, or to Cerberus?" Miranda demanded.

"Unknown," said Liara. "They've had a presence in some of the smaller republics for some time. Last year they took over the _polis_ of Rhamnos outright. They drove out the legitimate government, and started running the place as a pirate state. No one has been able to muster enough force to dislodge them."

"_Despoina_, it's possible that they've made themselves too useful to powerful people elsewhere on Thessia," Tania pointed out. "It disturbs me a great deal that they've turned up here in Armali."

"I _have_ seen intel that some of the Matriarchs have hired outsiders for political security."

"Would Matriarch Ariadne be one of them?" asked Kelly, quietly.

Liara only nodded.

"It also worries me that the Armali militia withdrew from the scene today, just before the Black Hand appeared," said Tania.

"You couldn't get the militia to attack a crowd of protestors unprovoked," said Vara firmly. "They're just citizens on the payroll of the _polis_. They would know too many of the people in the crowd personally."

"Bloody hell," Miranda growled. "That sounds like the kind of maneuvering you would see on Earth, right before an authoritarian coup. Is this normal on Thessia?"

"No," said Liara. "No, it isn't. Before the Reapers came . . . I can't even _remember_ the last time it happened in any of the major republics. It may have been over two thousand years ago."

"Well, we humans have had plenty of experience with it," said Kelly. "Let it take root, and you can kiss your democracy goodbye."

"Not to mention that it's just the sort of thing Cerberus used to do, in places on Earth where there was a lot of poverty or civil disorder." Miranda held Liara's gaze. "Kelly and I discussed this last night, while we were talking with Yu Li."

"I'm aware of the precedent," the Shadow Broker agreed. "First-order hypothesis: ex-Cerberus operatives are providing support to the Black Hand, and advising Matriarch Ariadne and her colleagues on how to use them to consolidate their power. Cerberus gets a share of the profits, and if the strategy works, they get a chance to take one of the major galactic powers out of play."

"It makes sense. How are we going to find out for sure?"

"Well, we don't have any hooks into Black Hand networks yet." Liara cocked her head at Miranda. "What say we raid the sisterhood and do something about that?"

Miranda bared her teeth. "Wild horses could not keep me away."

"Good," said Liara with satisfaction. "Vara, Nerylla, I want an operational plan ready by 2100 this evening, and then we had all better get some rest. We move after midnight."

"Are you sure about this, Dr. T'Soni?" asked Erato. "You have been very clear about your reluctance to use hard-power methods to support the dissident movement."

"I was reluctant because I didn't want to provoke the Matriarchs into responding to force with force. It appears to be too late for that." Liara shrugged. "Besides, the Black Hand are just the kind of problem the Shadow Broker _can_ solve. Matriarch Ariadne becomes a much smaller threat, if she can't call on terrorists and Cerberus die-hards to support her moves."

"Not to mention that the Black Hand wouldn't even _exist_ if not for us," said Miranda. "Shepard, Liara, even I played a part in breaking Eclipse. It's our mess to clean up, Erato."

Liara shot Miranda a quick glance, and in that moment Miranda could almost read her mind: complete agreement.

"Very well." Erato glanced at Vara for a moment, and then stood. "I must return to the city. Word of the violence must be everywhere by now. I need to meet with the other leaders, and discuss our options for a unified response."

"Be careful. May I send an escort with you?" Liara asked.

Erato shook her head. "There is no need. Not yet, at least. In any case, you will need all of your people for this."

Behind her, Vara's face took on a look of grim determination.

* * *

Parnitha had descended behind the Eramethos Mountains, and the sky overhead was turning deep violet, when Miranda finally got a chance to retire to the guest room Liara had given her. Even then, she found herself unable to sleep. After an hour of futile staring at the ceiling, she rose and began to pace.

Thus, when her omni-tool chirped, she was almost thankful for the distraction. She sat down on the bed, propping herself up against the headboard, and opened the device.

"Hello, Ori."

Oriana Kapoor looked like a blurred copy of her sister: a little shorter and more slender, the reddish highlights in her page-boy-cut hair a little more prominent, her eyes somehow warm rather than glacial despite being almost the same shade of blue. She smiled, and suddenly Miranda could see the _look_ that had made Ori one of the most-photographed young women on post-Reaper Earth.

"Hi, Miri. It's been a long time – would it kill you to call every few months? I see you're on Thessia."

Miranda snorted. "Still keeping track of me, I see."

"Someone has to. I don't want my big sister to just vanish out there." Oriana cocked her head. "You're at Dr. T'Soni's place. Good! We've come across something that might be of use to you."

"Who is _we?"_

"Us. You know. The Fantastic Four."

Miranda shook her head, not sure whether to be amused or disgusted.

_The Fantastic Four, indeed._

_Sanjeev Kapoor:_ industrialist and reconstruction engineer, who had made himself a billionaire while helping to rebuild cities and infrastructure across a great arc from Cairo to Sapporo. _Oriana Kapoor:_ brilliant architect and civil planner, and heiress to what remained of the Lawson fortune after the Reapers and the war-crimes tribunals had finished with it. _Jacob Cole-Taylor:_ veteran of the Reaper War, head of a security firm that had worked tirelessly to protect relief and reconstruction efforts. _Brynn Cole-Taylor:_ Nobel-laureate physicist, who had developed new communications and energy technologies to bind the shattered planet together. The four of them had met in the last days of the Reaper War, over the construction of the Crucible. Before long, they had built a close partnership that had lasted ever since.

After the Reapers, Earth had needed heroes more than ever. Miranda still had a hard time dealing with the fact that _her little sister_ had become one of them.

"I really wish the four of you would stop trying to meddle in the intelligence business, Ori. You have enough to do . . . and I never wanted you to be involved in the dark side of things."

Oriana sighed. "Really, Miri, for someone who's spent your whole life in the black-ops business, you are sometimes _appallingly_ naïve. You need to come home and spend some time on Earth. The place is still an utter mess, and probably will be for decades to come. There's no way to build anything that will last, unless we keep a sharp eye out for the people who would rather blow things up if they don't get their own way."

"People like Cerberus?" Miranda guessed.

"It's hard to say. People are _very_ careful not to use that name on Earth. It's a good way to end up on the wrong end of an angry mob. But Jacob and Sanjeev have come across something interesting. Large sums of money, moving off-world through the Terra Nova colony."

Miranda frowned. "Terra Nova? Before the war, Cerberus owned the Commonwealth Bank there . . ."

"Which got dismantled after the war. Right. But Jacob doesn't think the Alliance tracked down all the Cerberus plants and sympathizers inside the bank. Some of them may have managed to get back into the financial sector after the war, and it's a good guess that they would want to put those money-laundering skills to work." Oriana's eyes narrowed, a gesture that Miranda recognized as her _getting to the point_ marker. "That isn't the only interesting thing about this, though. Guess where the money is ending up."

"Thessia."

"Right in one. Now, do you think the Shadow Broker might be interested in this?"

Miranda felt the corner of the mouth quirk upward. "She _still_ won't give you an internship, Ori."

Oriana laughed merrily.

"Send me what you have. Liara should be in a position to investigate further." Miranda took a deep breath, realizing that she felt a little better. Oriana often had that effect on her. "How are Sanjeev and the boys?"

"Sanjeev is Sanjeev. He's up to his eyebrows in upgrading the SEASIA power grid these days, and I keep having to remind him to come up for air. Arjun just had his sixth birthday, and he's decided he wants to join the Alliance when he grows up. Again. Rajiv is still an enormous bookworm, and he's showing signs of mathematical aptitude, but then he's only four." Oriana watched her sister through the screen. "They both miss their Aunt Miranda. You should come home and visit sometime."

"I will. Maybe when I'm done here."

Oriana rolled her eyes. "Right. Don't worry, I've long since given up on turning us into the Fantastic Five . . . but I miss you too. Tell Dr. T'Soni she had better take good care of you, or she'll be hearing from me."

"I can take care of myself, Ori."

The younger woman raised a skeptical eyebrow, but she also exercised discretion.


	6. The Battle of Rhamnos

_**12 Thargelia 3364 AR (18 January 2198), Rhamnos/Thessia**_

In the dark of night, three shuttles glided down, the Shadow Broker's insignia painted on each.

On a calm night, the approach would never have gone undetected. In this epoch, Parnitha passed through the outer fringes of a great open cluster. Thessia's night sky was filled with the Thousand Jewels, a scattering of bright blue-white stars, with a few orange and red giants for flavor. One could read by starlight. Against such a backdrop, aircraft on the approach would be spotted at once by any alert sentry, stealthed against radar or no.

With a tropical storm surging ashore off the Irenic Ocean, everything was darkness and howling chaos instead.

"Comm check," said Vara. She listened to her helmet radio as three squad leaders reported in, then caught Liara's eye and nodded.

"Strict discipline of objectives," Liara murmured. "We're here to crack into Black Hand data networks. If we can do that and go home again without firing a shot, I'll be well pleased."

Vara shook her head. "Don't worry, _despoina_. Everyone understands the rules of engagement."

"Good." Liara noticed Miranda's expression, and gave her an apologetic shrug. "A number of my acolytes . . . have rather _strong_ feelings about the Black Hand. Before the Reapers, some of them would have been sisters-in-arms within Eclipse. Some of our people might personally know some of the pirates who hold Rhamnos now. There's no hatred like that within a family."

Miranda nodded, understanding _that_ statement all too well. She looked away, out the front window of the shuttle, and tried not to think about her own strong feelings.

Three shuttles touched down in the dark and the rain. Their hatches popped open. Teams of lithe blue warriors in black combat armor sprang forth. Liara, Vara, and Miranda followed.

At once, Miranda found herself struggling with noise, wind, and downpour. She slapped her own combat visor down, activating her HUD to augment what little she could see.

They had landed in an open field, perhaps three kilometers from the outskirts of the _polis_ of Rhamnos. A gentle slope swept up to the northwest, scattered with trees that lashed back and forth in the wind. At the top of the slope Miranda could make out some kind of ruined stone building, perhaps an ancient castle. Liara's people fanned out across the slope, moving from cover to cover, making for the ruin.

Liara followed, her sidearm out but pointed down to the side in a ready pose as she walked. Miranda could sense the asari's biotics at the ready, dark energy just short of curling into visible life around her shoulders and her off hand. A quick glance at Vara, and then the two of them moved to bracket the Shadow Broker, watching the quarters to ensure no sudden threat could leap out of the darkness and surprise them.

Suddenly, a muttered phrase snapped across the comm link, in some asari dialect Miranda couldn't quite follow. The three of them went to cover, Vara first as her commando reflexes kicked in, then Liara and Miranda a split second behind.

"There's a Black Hand post in the ruin," Liara murmured. "I suppose it was too much to ask that they wouldn't secure a hilltop with line-of-sight into Rhamnos."

"So what now?" Miranda asked.

"Now we wait, and let the team do their job," said Vara, tension in her voice like a wire pulled taut.

Miranda squinted up the slope, trying to make out what was happening through the rain and occasional lightning-flash.

"Target comms down," said an asari voice.

Then Miranda glimpsed slim black-clad figures, running through the rain, surprisingly close to the stone ruins. For just an instant, she saw an asari _vaulting_ over a low stone wall, the blue gleam of unleashed biotics trailing behind her like a comet's tail.

"Clear," said the same voice. "Four down, all accounted for."

_Less than ten seconds,_ Miranda realized. Then Vara and Liara were up and sprinting through the rain, in a terrible hurry to get to the objective now that it had been secured. Miranda followed, about three steps behind at first, long legs helping her catch up almost at once.

By the time she arrived at the hilltop, stepping carefully over or around a few fallen stones, Liara's people were already hard at work. Three asari erected a tripod and aimed a bulky instrument westward. Miranda checked her HUD, and saw that they were aligning their gear to point directly toward the heart of Rhamnos, the city lights barely visible through the rain. Meanwhile, Liara bent down by one of the fallen Black Hand, her omni-tool flaring into life.

"Good work, sisters," said Vara, collecting a set of quick white smiles in the darkness.

"Signal acquired," said one of the asari by the tripod. "We have a cross-link to the computers on board _Cannae_. Estimate about five minutes to defeat the Black Hand encryption."

Liara nodded, not looking away from her omni-tool. "That should give me enough time to introduce some malware into their networks from here as well. Assuming I can recover this sergeant's private keys . . . ah, here we go."

"Your cyberwarfare capabilities have gotten even better than I remember," Miranda remarked.

Vara nodded, looking as smug as an asari could through a combat helmet's visor. "It helps that the Shadow Broker has some friends on Rannoch. Some of whom are _geth_."

"Well." Miranda made a chilly smile. "A few Cerberus tricks couldn't have hurt."

Time passed, feeling like hours although Miranda knew it could only have been minutes.

Then: "Uh-oh," said one of the asari by the tripod.

Miranda glanced down at Liara, who was still in the middle of building and deploying exploit code. She stepped over to the tripod. "What is it?"

A young asari glanced up at her. "I'm not sure, but I think we just found a tripwire in the Black Hand networks."

"Found? You haven't triggered it?"

The technician glanced at her displays, then at her omni-tool, then back at her instrument. "I . . . I don't know. I can't tell."

"Better assume you have, then. Vara, we may be about to have company."

The petite commando nodded, and issued a quick series of orders.

Miranda made a quick evaluation of the situation, and decided that she was superfluous where she was. As the Shadow Broker's commandos moved down the slope toward Rhamnos, she followed, finding a convenient stone behind which she could take cover. She still couldn't see much with her unaided vision, but in the HUD she could see the skirmish line taking shape to either side of her.

"Here they come!"

The night lit up with gunfire and flashes of blue-white light.

Three Black Hand icons lit up in Miranda's HUD, small and very fast, scouts riding two-man grav sleds. The moment they came within range, the Shadow Broker's people opened fire. One icon went to ground, then two. The third took on the blood-red color of fatal damage before vanishing.

Then a _wave_ of new icons appeared, less than a kilometer away, already moving fast under cover.

"Rapid reaction force," Vara commented. "Goddess, for what we are about to receive, may we be truly thankful."

Miranda would have chuckled at that, if she hadn't been so busy putting gunfire down-range.

It was a very _asari_ sort of fight, at least on the part of the Black Hand attackers. Lots of individuals moved from cover to cover, without much care for anything that could be called a disciplined line. They melted away from concentrations of fire or biotic power, formless, only to coalesce once more as soon as the pressure let up. Their gunfire was, admittedly, very accurate. Miranda was soon very grateful that she had arranged for good front cover, turned her kinetic shields up to maximum, and put up a strong biotic barrier.

Occasionally Miranda could see one or two icons peel off from the main body, charging up at the Shadow Broker's positions, dodging fire in a death-or-glory bid to come to close-quarters range. It generally didn't work.

Vara had deployed her forces in a very _un_-asari manner: a solid double line, with fields of fire carefully interlocked to create kill-zones, and biotics or heavy-weapons specialists ready to provide fire support as needed. Disciplined tactical doctrine, as opposed to brilliant but unruly improvisation.

_Asari fighting like Alliance Marines. Three guesses where they got that._

It seemed to be working. One Black Hand warrior fell, then another, then another, and the enemy's advance stopped dead. Miranda couldn't see any fatalities among the Shadow Broker's force, not yet.

"_Secondary objective attained_," said Liara's cool voice over the comm. "_Two minutes on primary objective. Hold the line_."

"Holding," answered Vara.

Then Miranda saw a knot form in the Black Hand positions, about a hundred meters down-slope.

"_Incoming!_"

The world went up in fire and lightning.

When Miranda could take inventory once more, she pushed herself off hands and knees to a low crouch, and looked around. A barrage of grenades and biotic warps had slammed into the middle of the Shadow Broker's line, tearing up the ground and stunning a half-dozen commandos.

_No deaths. Although my ears may take an hour to stop ringing._

A flying wedge of icons was running up the slope, half a dozen of the Black Hand taking advantage of the momentary distraction, already much too close.

Miranda opened fire. So did the asari on either side of her. For a moment, it was a ragged response, enough to send Black Hand barriers shimmering with impact, not enough to tear any of them down.

An asari _soared_ up into the air in front of Miranda, her exposed face wild and wide-eyed, apparently unconcerned with the driving rain. Blue energy swirled around her clenched fist. Her other hand held a wicked-looking combat knife.

Miranda didn't have time to think. Fortunately, she didn't need it.

Muscles surged, throwing Miranda into a spin. When the commando came down, Miranda wasn't there. The biotic warp zoomed off into darkness, while the knife hissed through empty space where the woman had stood a moment before.

Miranda completed the turn on the ball of one foot – _careful, the ground is slippery_ – and used her momentum to launch a high kick. One black boot slammed into the base of the commando's spine, knocking her off balance.

Without thinking about it at all, Miranda made a control gesture. Biotic power surged, exploding into the face of the _second_ commando who had just appeared on the scene. Then she made a full-body dive, generating another miss for the burst of gunfire that followed.

_Damn, they're fast._

She rolled, her pistol coming up – _slam-slam-slam,_ went the recoil at her wrists – and a Black Hand sister took three incendiary rounds center-of-mass. She shrieked in sudden, but mercifully brief agony.

"Demons take you, _doulē!_" screamed the first attacker, recovered and pouncing on Miranda with her knife.

Desperate, Miranda's right hand dropped the pistol and lashed out to grab the commando's wrist. The two of them rolled over in the mud, the asari on top, then Miranda, then the asari again, fighting for control of the knife. A hate-filled face hovered centimeters away, streaked with crimson mottling, white teeth bared in a snarl.

Miranda bucked, slamming her visor into the asari's face with brutal force.

_Well. Even a stone-cold fanatic commando will react when her nose is suddenly smeared across half her face._

Miranda heaved, and the thrashing weight flew away. She didn't even bother to hunt for her pistol, only called up a _ferocious_ warp, discharging it at almost touch range.

Breathing hard, she looked around and saw no more immediate threats. Only then did she query her HUD once more, take three steps and recover her sidearm from where it lay in the mud.

"_Primary objective attained_," said Liara. "_Retreat to the shuttles for extraction_."

Another black-clad asari came pelting out of the rain, almost getting shot for her pains until Miranda had a moment to check her HUD. One of Liara's people.

"Are you all right, Ms. Lawson?" the maiden asked, looking concerned.

"I've been through much worse," Miranda said honestly. "Come on, let's get out of here before they try again."

* * *

Dawn was nearly at hand by the time Miranda returned to Liara's house, put her armor and weapons away, and claimed time in a refresher to wash away the sweat and stink. This time her mood was much improved.

She was not exactly _happy_. In truth, she wasn't certain she had ever in her life felt simple contentment. Still, there was a certain _satisfaction_ in having made it through yet another firefight with her skin intact, and with a few of her enemies lying dead on the ground in the process.

It wasn't a Cerberus thing. Cerberus had taught her to be coldly professional about combat: to avoid it unless it was necessary, to win at any cost, and then to move on to the real objectives.

She had not permitted herself to acknowledge the feeling until years after she had abandoned Cerberus. Ironically, it had been Jack who helped her realize what her subconscious was trying to tell her. By that time, the two of them had let go of their contempt for each other, and become something almost like friends. So when Miranda had half-accused Jack of _enjoying_ a fight, taking _pleasure_ in killing, the renegade biotic had (for once) been positively eloquent in response.

_Well, cheerleader, for one thing, those sick bastards your ex-boss had raising me? They conditioned me to get turned on whenever I win a fight. Did a fucking good job of it too. Twenty years later, smashing some asshole into paste against a wall still feels better than a really good lay._

_But there's more to it than that. Every time someone comes for you, someone you know plans to kill you, and they're the one that ends up dead? Lizard brain notices that. Lizard brain is really happy about that. Means you get to survive one more day, and now it's time for your reward._

_It isn't just poor fucked-up Jack who feels that, cheerleader. Everyone does. Even you. Admit it._

"Yes, Jack," Miranda whispered, as she luxuriated in the warmth. "I admit it."

She tried not to think too hard about the other desire, the one that wanted someone to _share_ this feeling with. She had gotten a lot of practice in setting that one firmly aside.

Bathed, dressed, ready for some food and then some _sleep_, Miranda made her way down to the common rooms. She found the sun rising over the ocean, shining through the kitchen windows, bathing the Shadow Broker in white and gold as she sat alone at the big table.

"Liara."

The asari glanced up from the tablet she was using, giving Miranda a nod in greeting. "Good morning. Thank you for coming last night."

"I wouldn't have missed it. How are Amara and Myrine?" Miranda asked, naming the two acolytes who had taken serious hurt in the fight.

"They're both going to be fine. We were fortunate to catch the Black Hand off-balance." Liara's cobalt-blue eyes looked shadowed for a moment. "Are _you_ all right?"

"It will take more than a couple of glory-hound maidens to do for me," said Miranda flatly. "Besides, I owed them a bit of payback for Yesira."

"Perhaps I can promise you more than that. We now have malware implants deep inside the Black Hand networks, working themselves further in by the hour. It shouldn't be long before we uncover any connections they may have with Cerberus."

"Good."

Miranda raided the pantry and the refrigerator, turning up a pair of baked pastries and a bottle of fruit juice. While she scavenged, she heard Liara's tablet chime.

"What is it?" she asked, as she sat down at the table to eat.

Liara wasn't smiling, but years of close acquaintance had taught Miranda to read her moods. The Shadow Broker was more than a little pleased.

"There has been a response to yesterday's events," she said, paging through what must have been a fairly long message. "It seems Erato has been very persuasive. Some of the faculty . . . and apparently _all_ of the students at the University have gone on strike. So have technicians, actors, and musicians at most of the clubs and theaters in the Eurotas district. Not to mention all five of the major guilds of _hetairai_. Another protest march is planned for this afternoon, and Erato and the other leaders have issued a public statement that they will be prepared to deal with any renewed violence."

Liara looked up and caught Miranda's eye.

"We appear to have a revolution on our hands after all."


	7. Teach-In

_**12 Thargelia 3364 AR (18 January 2198), Eurotas District, Armali/Thessia**_

Once the Kandris Theater had been a gorgeous building, broad and low rather than sky-challenging, but still rich with sweeping curves and elegant proportions. It had stood close to the Eurotas River for over two thousand years, virtually unchanged, a centerpiece of Armali's cultural and social life. Then, of course, as with so many other ancient landmarks, the Reapers had come and smashed the place into so much wreckage.

Still, the asari had survived, and even though they had lost much, they had begun to rebuild.

A painting hung in the entry hall, an image taken from the artist's memory of the old theater in its prime. One could still see fragments of the ancient building: a nearly intact wall, three columns that had been broken and then lovingly restored, a marble staircase reassembled out of fragments. The rest was all improvisation, built by people who possessed a keen aesthetic sense, but who had been forced to work with found materials and manual labor. There was a great deal of wood and brick, paint and plaster that didn't quite match, cloth draped to cover imperfections.

Miranda suspected that the acoustics were nothing like they had once been . . . but the asari didn't seem to mind.

There were a _lot_ of asari, crammed standing-room-only into the great hall. Miranda had to stop for a moment, rather overwhelmed at the roar of feminine voices, the scent of cloves and cinnamon, in an enclosed space this time rather than an open city street.

"Come on," said Vara, setting out down the aisle.

Miranda followed, and found progress through the packed crowd to be surprisingly easy. A human mob of equal density would have been all elbows and stubborn resistance. Asari actually _liked_ being packed in like sardines in a can, and they were also more graceful about it. Over and over, Miranda saw an asari become aware of Vara's advance, and at once shift her weight or step to the side, just enough to let the petite commando pass.

They arrived close to the front, where Erato and the other protest leaders had set aside space for them. Miranda looked around for an open seat, and then froze.

"Hello, Lawson," said Aethyta.

Liara's father stood less than three meters away, hands on hips, a decidedly chilly expression on her almost-unmarked face, reddish-brown eyes gleaming with hostility.

"Matriarch," Miranda replied, her voice gone cold. _I wondered when _she_ would make an appearance_.

Vara eased forward, as if to place herself between Miranda and Aethyta. "Ms. Lawson is here at Erato's request, Matriarch. And Liara's."

"I know, _therapōn_. Don't worry, I'm not going to make a scene. Just want this one to know I have my eye on her."

For a moment, Miranda was tempted to let it pass.

_Not the first time Aethyta has taken the opportunity to be mean as cat's piss, but why should I care? It's not as if I need her approval. She's never tried to interfere in any of Liara's work as the Shadow Broker. Aside from that, there's no reason why I should have anything to do with the frightful old biddy._

This time, the anger was somehow harder to set aside.

"I'm curious, Matriarch." The cold voice was out, the one she had used many times before to flense away deception and evasion and get at the truth. "Just what _is_ your issue with me? Ever since Liara and I began our association after the war, I've had nothing but hostility from you."

"That should be obvious . . . _Cerberus_."

"I haven't been part of Cerberus in over a decade. I left at the same time Shepard did, and you never gave Shepard the same kind of nonsense. Even though he was much closer to Liara than I am."

Aethyta snorted in disdain. "Shepard was never part of Cerberus, not really. He only worked with your boss because he had to, and he broke away the moment he could. Whereas _you_ . . . you were a true believer, weren't you?"

"At one time." Miranda shrugged. "I still believe in humanity. Shepard convinced me that Cerberus was the wrong way to go about supporting human interests. I've worked with Liara to help everyone recover from the war, human or not."

"Right." Aethyta shook her head and sighed, some of the antagonism slipping away. "Look, Lawson, I didn't really approve of Shepard either, but at least Shepard was _good_ for Liara. She was always smart and talented, and I always knew she would do amazing things, but when he was around she _caught fire_ from him. Never thought I'd see such drive and passion in her. Ever since he died, she's been running on nothing but the embers."

"I know," Miranda said quietly. "I've gotten to know her better than any human other than Shepard, I think. I can see it too. She's still in mourning. She buries herself in her work because she doesn't think life has anything better to offer her."

"You're not what she needs, Lawson."

"Because I'm a cold-hearted, ruthless bitch?" Miranda inquired, a trace of venom in her tone to conceal the sharp pain in her chest. "Not the kind of woman who inspires _passion_ in anyone?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Miranda saw Vara cringe slightly.

"Maybe." Aethyta cocked her head at Miranda. "Or maybe it's because while you're around, she won't move on. You remind her too much of the old days. She needs to get it through her head that she has centuries ahead of her, and too much living to do to stay stuck in the past."

Miranda scoffed. "I think you overestimate me, Matriarch. Liara has her own mind and she does as she pleases. My being here on Thessia or not isn't going to change that. And in the meantime, she and I have a job to do, and it will get better done if we work together."

Then she turned her back on the Matriarch and went to find her own place to sit.

* * *

The meeting got underway soon afterward in any case.

As always, Miranda found asari democracy fascinating to watch. Asari political discussion _looked_ like a free-for-all, anyone apparently permitted to chime in at any time, with no obvious rules or structure. Among humans it would have quickly degenerated into a shouting match, or a riot. Somehow the asari made it work, with some kind of courtesy system that was obvious to them even if the human observer couldn't quite figure it out.

After an hour or so of open forum, Erato stepped out onto the stage and called a more formal discussion to order. At first she spoke, then other leaders of the dissident movement, followed by a few political scientists and sociologists from the University. It all seemed very dry and rather boring.

Then someone Miranda knew took the stage, and the hall filled with sudden anticipation.

* * *

"My name is Liara T'Soni. I am a citizen of the Armali Republic. I hold a doctorate in archaeology from the University of Serrice, with a specialization in Prothean studies. I am a T'Sarien, Praxis, and Nobel laureate for my work in that field."

_Interesting_, Miranda thought. _No mention of her time with Shepard, her identity as the Shadow Broker, or her role in ending the Reaper War_. _Nothing but her credentials as a scientist._

"Many rumors have circulated about certain historical and scientific discoveries made during the war. As most of you have heard, I was closely involved in that work. I am in a position to describe those results – and their implications – to the public. However, ever since the war's end, I have acceded to requests from the Citadel Council and a number of prominent Matriarchs to remain silent. Today I intend to break that silence, because the truth is entirely relevant to the political questions we face."

Miranda glanced around, as the entire hall became deathly silent. Hundreds of asari were giving Liara their very _focused_ attention.

"Permit me to review what every citizen of Armali learns during her primary education.

"The _polis_ of Armali was founded twenty-eight thousand years ago, as an offshoot of the ancient Calydonian culture. The Calydonians were among the first asari to practice intensive agriculture, to develop advanced mathematics, to develop the institutions of the Matriarchy and of participatory democracy. That ancient civilization defined many features that remain central to our present-day society.

"Ever since then, Armali has been a center of culture, learning, and science. It was at Armali that the cult of Athame built its greatest temple. It was the Armali script that became universal for all asari. It was an Armali dialect that gave rise to the _koiné_ that almost all asari now speak, and that we teach to aliens as our common language. It was an expedition from Armali that first circumnavigated the world. It was in the Armali region that our first industrial revolution took place. It was Armali that funded our first ventures into space. The captain of the ship that discovered the Citadel was a citizen of Armali.

"Time and time again, Armali has been a shining beacon of enlightenment for the whole world, for the whole _galaxy_. We citizens of this _polis,_ we like to think there's something special, something _remarkable_ about us, don't we? Some scrap of divine blessing, some thread of brilliance and wisdom that sets us apart as a people_. _We're taught to take pride in that. Even now, after the Reapers, at our lowest point in thousands of years, we still remember it. It gives us strength."

Liara paused for a moment, and then her voice became bitterly cold.

"That pride is, and has been from the very beginning, based on a lie."

She stood, looking out at her people, waiting for the rumble of discontent to pass.

"As most of you are aware, not long before the war, I mounted an archaeological expedition into the Eramethos Mountains. On that expedition, my colleagues and I were able to prove for the first time that the Protheans had visited Thessia in our prehistory. Early in the war, we recovered a _living_ Prothean from a stasis pod, the last survivor of his people. His name was Javik Taran . . . and he was one of the Protheans who had actually come to Thessia, fifty thousand years ago.

"Javik revealed that the Protheans did more than _visit_. They actively intervened in asari development. They meddled with our genetics, both through artificial manipulation and by mating with some of our remote ancestors. They taught us the rudiments of astronomy, mathematics, and agriculture. They protected Thessia against natural disaster and an invasion by space-faring aliens."

Liara paused, watching the audience, listening to the tone of the muttering voices.

"I see that some of you recognize these assertions. Yes. We no longer remember the Protheans . . . but long ago, out of their vague memories of that contact, our ancestors created the myth of the Goddess Athame. It is no accident that the Calydonians were the first to worship Athame, that Armali was a major center of her cult from the very foundation of the city.

"In short, the Protheans were engaged in an attempt to _uplift_ us. At first they intended to bring us into their empire as a servant species, as they had done with many others. Then their time ran out – the Reapers appeared – and their intentions changed. They began to think of us as their _legacy_ to the next cycle of galactic history. We were to be the elder race, the ones who began the next cycle, the ones who would lead the galaxy to defeat the Reapers.

"Then, before they left us behind to meet their fate, the Protheans did one more thing. They left something behind for us, right here in what later became the city of Armali."

"The Temple of Athame!" shouted an asari voice, from the back of the hall.

Liara nodded. "Your deduction is sound. The Protheans left us an archive, like those on Kahje or Mars, one of the largest ever found. The Temple was later built _around_ the archive, concealing it from view. If its existence was ever public knowledge, most of us have long since forgotten. Even so, for thousands of years, certain Matriarchs of Armali remained aware of the archive, and used it as a short cut to the development of new scientific knowledge and new technology. After the unification of Thessia, the cabal opened its ranks to Matriarchs from other cities, but use of the archive continued."

Miranda could hear several quiet but intense discussions within earshot. Some asari saw where Liara was headed. Others were busy rejecting the entire line of argument.

"The implications should be clear," said Liara, raising her voice to be heard over the growing noise. "The existence of this archive was kept a deep secret. Very few asari, and no off-worlders, ever learned of it. Yet that archive gave Armali, then the asari people as a whole, a significant advantage. That was how Armali managed to remain a leading _polis_ for thousands of years, despite all the vagaries of asari history. That was why we asari were the first to reach the stars in this cycle. That was how we asari have managed to maintain our position of leadership among the Citadel species.

"Oh, no doubt our native abilities as asari had something to do with it. Armali's education system has always been superb. We have always attracted talent from all over the world – and now, from all over the galaxy. Knowledge does no good without skilled hands to put it to use.

"The fact remains: this city, and the asari people, have in large part succeeded due to the greatest deception in galactic history. While we lectured others about the need to share knowledge, we have always kept the core of our knowledge hidden. While we passed laws requiring others to share Prothean artifacts, we have kept the greatest Prothean legacy in the galaxy to ourselves."

The audience was in full roar now, horrified asari shouting out their anger and denial, non-asari turning to their blue-skinned neighbors in sudden suspicion.

Liara waited for a long minute, then two. Then she thrust her arms out, a wide and commanding gesture, and _ignited_. Blue-white light flared from her entire body, at blinding intensity around her head and shoulders, and the hall was filled with a sudden clap of thunder.

"Please hear me!" she shouted. "There is more. You must hear it all!"

Slowly, slowly, the hall became somewhat quiet once more.

"If it were only a deception for the sake of advantage, that would be bad enough," said the slender asari standing all alone on the stage. At last, her voice was no longer steady. "Here is the final calamity. _The archive contained information about the Reapers_."

Dead silence.

"I can attest to this myself. I was _here_, in Armali, on the day the Reapers arrived. William Shepard, Javik Taran, and I discovered the presence of the archive. We gained access to its contents. It included _everything_ the Protheans managed to learn about the Reapers before they were driven into extinction. Much of that information was locked away . . . but the Matriarchs who watched over the archive _could not_ have been unaware of all of it. They _knew_ of the Reapers, _centuries_ before the monsters finally arrived.

"We could have been ready for the Reapers. We could have built and used the Crucible long ago. All that death and destruction _could have been avoided_."

Out in the hall, a single asari stood up, staring at the stage. "Dr. T'Soni . . . I'm finding this very hard to believe. Why would anyone hide such a thing?"

"I don't know," Liara said simply. "My mother was one of those who knew, and I've gone through all of her encrypted records, but she wrote little about such matters. Councilor Tevos once discussed the matter with me, but she was not a member of the cabal and knew very little about their motives. I think it may have been a simple matter of denial. The cabal saw no way to do anything about the Reapers, and thought the invasion would be far in the future, so why not put the problem off until a solution could be found? Of course, if they had revealed their knowledge to the galaxy at large, the secret of the Armali archive would have been lost, damaging the Asari Republics immeasurably. Better to wait, and let someone else deal with the consequences a thousand years from now. Except that the consequences of our actions never remain in abeyance forever."

"You speak of damage," shouted another asari. "Now that damage has been done, thanks to you!"

This met with more angry shouts, from asari who did not approve of the accusation.

"Oh yes," Liara said in return, quite calm. "I've revealed the truth for all of you, which means it will be all over the galaxy by tomorrow evening."

"The others will blame us for the Reapers!"

"Perhaps they will. Perhaps they should."

"I didn't have anything to do with that!" shouted someone else. "Why should I pay for the crimes of a few Matriarchs? All of whom are long dead anyway?"

"Because you – and I – and all of us – we _benefited_ from those crimes." Liara looked around at the audience, catching one pair of eyes after another. "Before the war, our world was built on a foundation of lies and deceit, whether most of us knew it or not. Still, it was peaceful and prosperous, and the vast majority of us were quite happy with it. Remember that pride, that satisfaction in being asari, being citizens of one of the greatest cities in the galaxy? Then the Reapers came along and shattered all our comfortable illusions. In a sense, fellow citizens, we _have_ paid for those mistakes, in the only coin that mattered. Our blood."

A sober voice, from off to Miranda's right: "That won't matter, once the others learn the truth. In part, they have us to thank for their own suffering."

"I think I can reassure you on that score," said Liara. "The existence of the Armali archive is only now becoming _public_ knowledge, but I know for a fact that most of our Citadel partners have been aware of it ever since the war. Shepard reported everything to his superiors in the Alliance military, after all. Then there are the salarians. Can you imagine the Special Tasks Group being completely in the dark about something this important?"

A small miracle occurred: a ripple of cynical laughter that ran through the hall. _Asari know the salarians very well_, Miranda reminded herself. _A lot of them have salarian relatives, after all._

"No, I think we can dismiss the idea of a vengeful armada showing up in our skies, demanding answers. That doesn't mean the reckoning for our mistakes is over."

Liara walked up to the very edge of the stage, her body language deliberately cast to suggest honesty and openness.

"The humans have a concept called _original sin_. It denotes a violation of moral order that occurs at the very beginning of things, that taints all that might possibly come afterward. It is the sin that seems so deeply rooted in the life of a person, or a society, that it cannot possibly be absolved. We asari do not think of sin in the same manner . . . but even the Athame Codex states that _a thing must be clean at its beginning, or there will be no joy in its ending._

"This is our original sin. This deception, this secrecy. This trust in the Matriarchs to always know what is best, so that the rest of us can go about our lives without being required to worry about deep matters. This is what prevented us, we asari, we citizens of Armali, from being everything that we might have been. This is what brought the Reapers down upon all of us.

"It could be worse. Imagine a warrior society founded upon an act of cowardly dishonor. Or a nation that prides itself on liberty, yet is founded upon genocide, slavery, and oppression. At least _our_ original sin was not recorded in blood . . . and if there was blood in the end, ours was shed as much as anyone else's.

"Sins can be forgiven. There is no original sin so terrible that it can _never_ be mitigated or absolved. Yet before there can be any forgiveness, there has to be _repentance_.

"We can change. But first, we have to _want_ to change. We have to _want_ to become a better people, the light to the galaxy that we have always _assumed_ we were. We have to recognize the mistakes we made, and resolve not to repeat those mistakes, and seek out better ways to live. No matter how painful the process may be. No matter how difficult. No matter how many would prefer to go back to the way things were, when we were proud and satisfied and happy with the place we thought we had in the universe.

"Yes, we must insist that no Matriarch can ever again claim the privileges that my mother once claimed, the privileges that came within moments of dooming us all. But it is not just a few Matriarchs who must change. All of us must find a way to build a new Armali. A new asari people.

"That is what our revolution must be about. Otherwise, one day, we will stand once again on the brink of extinction. We might not be so fortunate next time."

Liara looked around the hall once more, her face calm and attentive as usual. Then she bowed slightly from the waist.

"I thank you for your attention."

* * *

"My name is Miranda Lawson."

Miranda stood on the stage, a microphone clipped to her collar, her stance and posture under perfect control. She looked out into the darkness, the bright lights that shone on her from above nearly blinding her, making it difficult to pick out the sea of faces. The hall was silent, or as nearly so as such a large mass of asari could manage.

She continued, in _koiné_ marred by only a trace of Australian accent.

"For most of my adult life, I have been involved with the human criminal organization known as _Cerberus_. For fourteen years I was a member of that organization. For six years I was one of its leading operatives, reporting directly and only to its leader, the Illusive Man. As a Cerberus operative, I was the leader of the Lazarus Project which revived Commander William Shepard. I supported his successful campaign against the Reaper agents known as the Collectors. During that campaign, I broke ties with Cerberus. I have worked independently ever since to hunt down and destroy the last remnants of the organization."

She paused, an expression of cold defiance on her face.

"I mention this not to affect my own moral position with you. My moral position is not relevant. What is relevant is that I am the galaxy's foremost living expert on Cerberus: its ideological objectives, sources of power, operational methods, and current activities.

"Dr. T'Soni has described how a culture of secrecy and maternalism has harmed asari society in general, and the Republic of Armali in particular. Despite what you went through during the war, I imagine that may seem rather dry and theoretical. I am here to testify that the same culture is harming you _right now, today_.

"Recall what happened yesterday. Many of you gathered peacefully in the streets in order to exercise free association and free speech. You intended to petition the Republic for redress of grievances. These are rights guaranteed to you, in the charters of the Republic of Armali and of the Asari Republics as a whole.

"You were met with violence. Many of you were arrested. Some of you were injured. A few of you were killed."

Miranda looked out across the sea of faces. The audience had become completely silent, the air in the theater heavy and brooding.

"If this was a human world, that wouldn't have surprised me. Such things are common in human cities that are undergoing political unrest. I was appalled to see it happen on Thessia. I gather most of you were as well.

"The first question that comes to mind is, _where were the Armali militia_? They were present in force when the march began, watching and showing no sign of planning to intervene. Then they disappeared, and the Black Hand swept in to attack the march.

"It turns out that the Armali militia were _ordered_ to withdraw by the board of _archons_. Dr. T'Soni and I have been unable to determine why the board would do such a bloody foolish thing. Of course, had the militia stayed in place, they would likely have _protected_ the march from the Black Hand, when the mercenaries made their appearance. Perhaps someone on the board preferred that not happen."

A surge of angry muttering, out in the audience.

"Now let's consider the Black Hand. If I may speak for a moment as an outsider to asari culture? The failure mode of asari Matriarchs has to do with conspiracies, secrecy, and the arrogant confidence that they know what's best for everyone. The failure mode of asari _maidens_ is something like the Black Hand. Selfish, callous, violent. Devoted only to their own pleasure, including the pleasures of killing. A tool in the hand of anyone who can afford to feed their appetites.

"The Black Hand have been a plague in asari space for years. Yet it surpasses belief to think that they _just happened_ to appear in Armali yesterday, moving in exactly when the city militia were being ordered to withdraw. Dr. T'Soni and I became suspicious. Since the march yesterday, we have used all our resources to uncover the reason for the Black Hand's presence here.

"It turns out that the Black Hand were _paid_ to attack the march yesterday. Paid, because the Armali militia could not be trusted to turn against the people of this city while you exercised your sovereign rights.

"Where did the money come from? Well, some of it came from certain Matriarchs who sit on the board of _archons_, and who apparently feel threatened by your displeasure. Most of it, though, came from off-world. Specifically, from certain banks in human space. Banks which were once owned by Cerberus and may still be serving Cerberus objectives. We've managed to trace specific payments all the way from those banks to the leaders of the Black Hand in Rhamnos. If you want the evidence, Dr. T'Soni and I are prepared to release it in full."

Miranda walked slowly along the edge of the stage, waiting for the audience to grow quiet once more.

"I can assure you that no matter what happens here in Armali, Dr. T'Soni and I are going to work to track down the Cerberus assets interfering in asari politics, and deal with them. With extreme prejudice.

"But I want you to consider what we're seeing here. Once again, we have a few Matriarchs making the same mistakes that nearly got all of you killed during the war. Deciding for themselves what's best for the asari people. Making those decisions in secret and behind closed doors. Enforcing those decisions without regard for the law. And once again, we have a few maidens up to _their_ old tricks, having their bloody fun at the expense of others. Playing into the hands of anyone wealthy, powerful, and unscrupulous enough to make use of them."

Miranda stopped. She applied a few tricks she had learned from Liara over the years, softening her facial expression and body language, a silent gesture that the audience would read without knowing it.

"Even when I was a young woman, and a fool who thought that humanity was the only cause worth fighting for, I liked and admired the asari people. I first came to Thessia less than a year after I joined Cerberus, sent here not on a mission of subversion or political violence, but simply to study and learn more about you.

"I know you can do better than this. As terrible as the war was, it gives you the opportunity to build something new, something cleaner and saner than what you had before. In the history of any sentient species, such opportunities come only rarely. Seize the day."

* * *

Finally, Miranda returned to her seat in the front rows, not far from where Aethyta still watched the proceedings.

She couldn't resist. She leaned over and muttered to the Matriarch: "Well? Do I meet with your approval a little better now?"

The older asari cocked her head, an expression of grudging respect on her face. "It's a start."


	8. Duet

**_12 Thargelia 3364 AR (18 January 2198), Eurotas District, Armali/Thessia_**

Years later, Miranda still remembered the rest of that day with astonishment. For more reasons than one.

Once she had spoken her piece as part of the formal sessions, she watched for hours as the asari argued, and deliberated, and reasoned with one another. Almost everyone who wished to speak got her chance, and although passions were high, the discussion never got out of hand. A few Matriarchs took part, like Aethyta, but for this moment they enjoyed no special rights. Even the youngest of maidens, even non-asari citizens of the Republic, had the opportunity to speak. People circulated into and out of the theater, spreading news of the forum to the crowds on the streets outside, word reaching far into the city in almost real-time. It seemed an example of true Athenian democracy, a form that Miranda had never witnessed in operation before.

By evening, the meeting had hammered out a substantial political program. Most Matriarchal privileges were to be abolished, especially those that tended to limit public transparency or open debate. There would be moderate reforms to the conduct of the Armali citizen assembly and the board of _archons_. Those reforms passed into law, there would be elections for a new board. A new elected office would also be instituted, that of the _exarkh__ō__n_, to act as a watchdog and advocate for the public. Non-citizens would be forbidden to bear arms openly within the city, unless authorized by the sovereign assembly. The ruined Temple of Athame – and what remained of the Prothean site within – would be opened to the public and the scientific community, without restrictions, even to off-worlders.

The day's strike in the University, the cultural district, and the guilds of _hetairai_ seemed likely to grow. Many asari spoke of a _general_ strike for the next day, shutting Armali down almost entirely. Erato and other dissident leaders promised to approach the board of _archons_ with their full list of demands as soon as possible.

As the meeting finally broke up, after dark, Miranda got the sense that the citizens of Armali had been enormously energized by the day's events. They no longer felt angry, hopeless, vaguely oppressed. Many of them began to feel that their fates were coming back into their own hands.

She wondered what the reactionary response would be. That there would be such a response, Miranda had no doubt.

Finally, she turned to look for Liara, wondering what she might think of what had happened. Only to find the Shadow Broker was nowhere to be seen.

After a moment's confusion, Miranda did the obvious thing: she looked around for Liara's acolytes. She spotted Tania Kethys at once, and a younger commando named Deiara, both standing by a door that led back behind the stage. They both nodded to Miranda as she approached, and made no move to prevent her from passing through the door.

Miranda found herself in a poorly lit corridor, one that not only served the backstage area of the theater, but also branched off to pass a number of closed doors on either side. As she walked, heels clicking on the tile floor, she passed storage areas, an office or two, then a series of what looked like practice rooms. These had thick glass windows set in the corridor wall so one could see inside, and thick sound-deadening doors. Many of the rooms themselves were quite small, while others could serve dozens of performers.

Outside one door, almost at the corridor's far end, Miranda saw Vara and Nerylla standing watch. Then she heard something new, just barely loud enough to be perceived.

Music.

"What's the word?" Miranda asked in a low voice, once she got close enough.

"Liara needed a break," said Vara, "and we thought an hour alone would be good for her."

Miranda nodded, half of her mind still struggling to recognize the melody she could barely hear from inside. "I understand. There's nothing urgent, I just wanted to hear her opinion of how things went today. I can talk to her once we all get back to the beach house."

The asari glanced at each other, some wordless message passing between them.

"Actually, Miranda, I don't think she would mind," said Vara. "Go on in."

Miranda frowned slightly, suspicious that she was missing an implication somewhere. "All right."

Nerylla opened the door silently, and the human slipped inside. At once the sound sprang into full being for her, music that she recognized.

The room was larger than most, big enough for several musicians or dancers to practice in, the lights turned down to a mellow glow. To one side stood a grand piano, a beautiful full-sized instrument, all in polished black wood. Liara sat on the bench, facing three-quarters away from Miranda. She played from memory, no sheet music on the rack, her eyes turned downward and half-closed. Her hands moved across the keys with graceful care.

Rich, gorgeous melody rolled out of the instrument at an unhurried pace, full of thirds and sixths in a major key. It was rather melancholy, and it might have been too sweetly sentimental for Miranda's taste, except that the pianist maintained a perfect cool precision. Every note was crisp and clear, and Miranda couldn't hear a single false step.

_Chopin_, Miranda thought, _one of the nocturnes._

The music came to a graceful close. Liara sat at the bench, her head bowed, as the final notes faded away.

Miranda hesitated for a moment, and then murmured, "That was beautiful."

Liara didn't startle, so she must have been aware of the woman's presence. She glanced over her shoulder with a small smile. "Thank you."

"I didn't know you played," said Miranda, stepping forward to stand by the piano. She reached out with one hand, the fingertips gliding over the polished wood, appreciating the condition of the instrument.

Liara frowned slightly, looking down. "I learned the basics a long time ago, but I never took the time to become an accomplished pianist . . . until after the war."

Miranda cocked her head, silently inviting her friend to continue.

"Do you remember the apartment David Anderson kept on the Citadel?"

"Not really. I never got the chance to see it. I know he let you and Shepard use it during the war."

"Yes." Liara rested her fingertips on the keys, lightly, not enough pressure to produce a note. "The admiral kept a piano in his living room. A rather good one, actually."

Miranda chuckled slightly. "I didn't know _he_ played."

"He didn't, but Kahlee Sanders did. The instrument had an auto-play feature as well. Perhaps David simply enjoyed the sound of a real instrument as opposed to a recording." Liara shook her head, a pensive expression on her face. "One day, when _Normandy_ was at the Citadel, Shepard came home and found me picking out a tune. I wasn't very well practiced then, but he still seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in it. We must have sat there for an hour, while I played everything I could remember."

Miranda nodded in silence.

"That was almost the last peaceful moment he and I had together," the asari said quietly.

Miranda poked at the ashes of a long-held envy, and found that they had apparently burned out at last. All that remained was sympathy. "So you've taken the time to learn better since then," she concluded.

"I have." Liara sighed, and played a little arpeggio across the keys, in a minor key. "Since the war there's been plenty to do, rebuilding everything that was wrecked. Working with my friends and colleagues helps too. I can go whole days without having to remember everything we've lost. Still, sometimes it helps to create something beautiful, something that came from my own hands. Even if it's just for a few minutes."

"I can understand that." Miranda sighed. "I wish I had something like it. I seem to spend all my time destroying things. It's been far too long since I _created _anything worthwhile. I'm afraid I may have lost the knack."

Liara cocked her head. "I doubt that. Why not try?"

"What do you mean?"

The asari pointed to a cabinet against the room's back wall. "I'm not sure, but there might be a violin in there."

Miranda felt her eyes widen in surprise. "Liara . . . oh, never mind."

"What?"

"You keep surprising me," said Miranda, crossing the room to open the cabinet in question, "with things you shouldn't know. I haven't played for anyone else since I ran away from my father."

"Shadow Broker, remember?" Liara looked down at her hands for a moment. "It's not all to the good. There are things about you that I wish I _didn't_ know."

There was indeed a violin in the cabinet, sitting inside its case. Miranda carried the case back to the piano, and opened it. The instrument certainly looked to be in good condition.

"Why? Am I that much of a monstrosity?" she asked quietly.

"Hardly. It's just that when I became the Shadow Broker for the first time, I couldn't be sure that you would ever become Shepard's ally, or mine. So I read your dossier." Liara shook her head. "It was very extensive. Also very personal."

Miranda sighed. She applied resin to the bow, and then picked up the violin and tucked it under her chin. "I suppose I always knew that. It doesn't matter. I've learned to trust you."

"Thank you. I know that's not easy."

"No. Life hasn't exactly rewarded me for trusting anyone. You've been one of the few major exceptions." Miranda drew the bow across the strings, and winced. "It's out of tune. Just a moment."

Liara waited patiently, while Miranda produced note after tentative note from the violin, adjusting the pegs in between. Finally, the woman nodded, closing her eyes as if to listen for inspiration.

The bow came down on the strings. Liara's eyes flew wide.

There was a quick arpeggio upward, then a rapid series of double-stops and trills, and then a _waterfall_ of sound. Jagged, dissonant, the music flowed out of the instrument and filled the room. It flowed, it surged, it veered into bursts of _pizzicato_. There seemed to be no overall melody or theme, only a series of brief figures. It felt like the inner workings of a mind in agitated movement: now thoughtful, now excited, now angry, never at peace for a moment.

Liara sat spellbound. It lasted about seven minutes, and then it did not _end_ so much as it simply trailed off into silence.

"What _was_ that?" the asari whispered at last. "I've never heard anything like it."

"Carl Nielsen. Part of the _Preludio e Presto_." Miranda took a deep breath. "God, it's been _years_ since I tried that. I'm surprised it still seems to be in my fingers."

"Nielsen. One of your favorite composers, isn't he? I may have to find more of his work."

Miranda chuckled. "You asari seem to prefer the older styles, when you go for human music. A lot of Nielsen's work was different; it was in what we could call the Modern style. They got very experimental for a while, back in the twentieth century."

"I didn't realize you had kept in practice that well."

"Hmm. You've never heard a violin played badly, I expect. Terrible. About the only thing that could possibly sound worse is _bagpipes_ played badly."

Liara smiled wryly at her, a knowing look in her eyes. "I see. Of course, you would never have agreed to play unless you could do it perfectly."

"Well. I gave up on _perfection_ a long time ago. You're right, though, I still prefer to do things well, if I have to do them at all."

"So." Liara turned back to the keyboard. "What else do you have from the concert repertoire?"

Miranda scoffed. "Play me a few notes and I'll see if I can fake it."

"How about this?" The asari played two gentle chords in a low register, then glanced up at Miranda expectantly.

"Oh yes." Up came the instrument and the bow, and icy blue eyes met cobalt blue, one eyebrow raised almost in challenge.

The same gentle chords again, and they were off: _vivace ma non troppo_, a cheerful melody in G major from the violin, soaring over a meditative piano line.

It felt like a conversation, as with any good music for two instruments. The violin sang, almost ready to give voice to words, adventurous yet always returning to the same line of thought. The piano marched in support, experimenting with variations whenever the violin fell silent. Miranda let her body and fingers take over, permitting the music to flow without having to think about it. She could feel a light sweat spring out across her skin with the effort. Her hair slapped against her back in its long braid, whenever she became particularly animated.

In her free moments, Miranda took pleasure in the piano, the simple, unpretentious clarity that Liara brought to the work. She had obviously spent long hours in practice . . . or perhaps she had melded with skilled performers, borrowing some of their experience in that uniquely asari manner. She was technically almost perfect, every note precisely placed, her tempo and dynamics under strict discipline. She didn't try to compete with the violin, content with maintaining her part of the conversation.

Minutes streamed by, almost unnoticed, as the practice room filled with music. Second movement, the _adagio_, and Miranda's heart began to ache. It was nothing like long hours of playing in a private room, a computer to provide the other instrumental lines, with no one else to hear. That kind of practice seemed a hollow thing now, sterile, a life lived within walls.

Suddenly, and most unwillingly, Miranda remembered her father.

As with most of her achievements, she had Henry Lawson to thank for her skill with the violin. The old bastard had carried strong ideas about what a _perfect_ female heir should be like, and those included both the aptitudes and the practice for great musical accomplishment. Actually taking any _pleasure_ in the music was beside the point. Falling short of perfection in any respect, appearing before the world as anything less than the best in every possible field of endeavor, that was not to be borne.

Yet, hating him, wanting more than anything to be rid of him, wanting nothing to do with even the slightest of his ambitions, Miranda had still found a certain joy in the music. It was a stunted pleasure, something that could only be enjoyed in private, for fear that he would use it as another means of control. Yet it was there, a scrap of nourishment for a starving soul.

Then the years with Cerberus came, and the music still had to stay in its safe little box. Because she might no longer be Henry Lawson's child and plaything, but now she was _Operative Lawson_, and anything that might detract from that image could be fatal. Difficult to hold case-hardened agents and mercenaries in line, if they thought you were soft in any way. The Illusive Man understood, perhaps, but no one else could be permitted to see.

Third movement, _Allegro molto moderato_, and Miranda began to feel that here was one more thing she could consign to the ashes of her past.

She was Miranda Lawson, independent, under no one's command but her own, and that could be taken as a liberation. No one left to make impossible demands. No one left to watch her for signs of weakness.

She could simply play the music she loved, and if a friend heard it, if a friend was willing to contribute to the performance, then why not?

The sonata came to a close. Slowly, Miranda set the violin down atop the piano, and took a deep breath. For a moment, she heard nothing but the rhythm of her own heartbeat.

"Thank you," said Liara softly. "That was a remarkable experience."

"You don't perform with others very often, do you? Or with an audience?"

"No." The asari shook her head, finally closing the keyboard and rising from the bench. "It doesn't exactly fit with the Shadow Broker's image."

Miranda couldn't help it. She chuckled, and then made a placating gesture when Liara looked mildly affronted. "I'm sorry. Believe me, I understand that all too well. I was just thinking something like it myself."

"I see." Liara looked down at her hands. "You understand, then. This is something for _me_. A way of remembering who I am, of keeping myself centered."

"Yes. Thank you, then. For trusting me enough to share it."

"I do trust you, Miranda. Implicitly." Liara glanced up again, and there was something in her eyes that caused Miranda's breath to catch for a moment. "I heard what happened with my father earlier. I'm sorry. She does _not _speak for me in this."

"I know."

Miranda suddenly felt awkward, as if she didn't know what to do with her hands. For a moment, she wanted to reach out and pull the asari into an embrace. They had done it before, as friends, sometimes almost as sisters. Now, quite suddenly, the gesture seemed . . . more dangerous.

_To hell with it. If I can face down Kai Leng, Henry Lawson, and the Illusive Man, if I can survive the Reapers, I can do this._

She reached out. Not very far. Liara was standing almost within arm's reach in any case, with _that_ look on her face, cobalt-blue eyes gone big and questioning. Just far enough to set one hand on the asari's shoulder, slip the other arm around her waist, and pull her close.

The kiss came as something of a surprise, as if neither of them had intended it. Perhaps neither of them had, until it was an accomplished fact.

Miranda felt the asari's lips brush across her own, and then dive deep. She tasted warm breath and a hint of mint, and then lips parted and Liara's tongue reached out to touch hers. The scent of the asari's body filled her head, light and pleasant, with notes of cinnamon and vanilla. Liara hesitated for just a moment, and then made a small sound in the back of her throat, her body going loose and pliable in Miranda's arms. Her arms crept up around Miranda's back, one hand cradling the back of the woman's head. The world went away for a long moment, as Miranda felt a rush of deep warmth.

The last thing she might have expected: desire.

"_Despoina?_"

The first thing Miranda became aware of was a pair of very big blue eyes, very close, looking rather shocked at what had just happened. Shocked, but not at all frightened or repelled by it. Then Liara, in no hurry at all, stepped slightly out of Miranda's embrace and turned away.

Vara stood at the door, a mask of perfect non-expression spread across her face. "I'm sorry to interrupt, _despoina_, but there's been a priority-one message from the beach house. Movement on the perimeter, very stealthy, apparently using tactical cloaks."

"Black Hand?"

Vara nodded. "They can't be sure . . . but really, who else could it be? They want to know whether they should prepare to defend the house."

Liara frowned, but she hesitated not at all. "Absolutely not. Tell them to bug out at once, and get to the fall-back position in the mountains. The house isn't important, but their lives are. With so many of us in the city, they don't stand a chance if the Black Hand are willing to invest in an all-out attack."

"Understood." Vara put a hand to the side of her head, activating her comms.

Liara glanced back at Miranda. "We appear to have _terrible_ timing."

"You have a gift for understatement, Liara." Miranda made a bark of cynical laughter. "I'm sorry. Maybe this was a mistake."

Then the asari's fingertips brushed her cheek, with infinite delicacy. "No," said Liara. "It wasn't a mistake. I think we may have been moving in this direction for a while, you and I."

"Maybe," said Miranda, suddenly quite sober.

"We can discuss it later. Right now, we have to move."

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ I do often listen to music while I write, but I don't usually select specific works, just pieces that carry the appropriate mood or will at least keep me focused on task. This chapter, of course, was an exception. If you feel like assembling a soundtrack:_

_Frédéric Chopin, The Nocturnes: Op. 37, No. 1 in G major, played by Arthur Rubenstein_

_Carl Nielsen, Preludio e Presto: Op. 52, FS 128, the first movement (Con Fantasia), played by Georgios Demertzis_

_Johannes Brahms, Violin Sonata No. 1 in G major, Op. 78, played by Itzhak Perlman and Vladimir Ashkenazy_


	9. Retreat

**_13 Thargelia 3364 AR (19 January 2198), Shadow Broker Site, Eramethos Mountains, Thessia_**

By the time they got out of the city, Liara's beach house was already burning.

Miranda was sitting next to her friend in the back of an aircar, watching her face, when she got the news. No change of expression. Just a calm question: "What were our casualties?" Then: "Thank you. Continue with the plan."

"Well?" Miranda asked, once the call was finished.

"They were warned in time. The evacuation plan worked. None of our people were hurt." Liara seemed unaffected, but she turned to look out the aircar's side window, into darkness. "The house is a total loss, of course. The Black Hand sisters used thermal charges."

Once again, Miranda found herself unsure how to go about the thing she wanted to do. Her life had not exactly been rich with opportunities to show sympathy.

Tentatively, she reached out and took Liara's hand. That got the asari's attention. Liara glanced away from the darkness, to stare into Miranda's face for a moment. Miranda found her expression interesting, difficult to read, much less open than usual.

"It's harder, isn't it, when it's your own people?" Miranda murmured. "Not a cosmic disaster like the Reapers. Not a pack of aliens who you might _expect_ to be your adversary. People who look and think like you, and still hate you."

Liara nodded in silence, her eyes shadowed. She brought Miranda's hand up for a moment, to brush her lips against the backs of Miranda's fingers.

Miranda frowned slightly, to cover a sudden surge of unfamiliar emotion.

Then Liara turned toward the front of the aircar. "Vara, there's no sense in trying to salvage anything from the house. Have everyone converge on the rally point in the mountains instead. We'll plan our next move from there."

"Yes, _despoina_." The aircar turned, away from Armali and toward the distant Eramethos peaks.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they landed on an isolated plateau, next to a camp that was rapidly becoming a fortress.

Years before, after the defeat of _Sovereign_ but before the Reaper War_, _Liara had overseen an archaeological dig high in the mountains near Armali. There, she had found the first indisputable proof that the Protheans had visited ancient Thessia.

Miranda knew her friend actually regarded that discovery as a _failure_. She believed that if she had only pursued the investigation further, she might have uncovered the Prothean archive in Armali itself, saving countless lives. Still, the archaeological site had survived the Reapers, had even provided shelter for a dozen scientists and their dependents while Reaper armies swept the lowlands.

After the war, Liara saw a use for the site as a bolt hole, well away from any major city, a place where the Shadow Broker could go to ground if she needed to. Tonight, she needed to.

The site rested on a small upland, perhaps two hundred meters deep, with a precipice at the southwest end and the steep slopes of a mountain peak to the northeast. Miranda could see little in the darkness of early morning, but she knew the place was surrounded by stone spires, long ridges, and deep ravines. The terrain was so rough that the site was almost impossible to reach, except by air.

The old Prothean site had been kept clear of construction, but close to the mountain wall stood a cluster of pre-fab buildings, flanked by landing pads and protected by heavy gun emplacements. The place was already seething with activity, twenty or so asari hurrying to unload equipment, set up shelters and work centers, man the defenses.

When Miranda emerged from their car, she took a deep breath. The air tasted cold and crisp, noticeably thinner than at sea level.

"Liara, I should work the grid for a while," she said quietly. "We've been so busy for the past few days, I haven't had much time to query my own contacts."

"Of course." Liara pointed. "The operations center, such as it is, will be over there. Two or three hours of effort should have it functional. If you help with that, you can build a work station the way you prefer it."

Then the asari was off, walking briskly away with Vara, already deep in her own plans. Miranda watched her go for a moment. Then she shook her head, clearing it of fatigue and confused feelings, and went in search of her own task.

She found a pre-fab structure, partitioned off into six work stations on an open plan, a small central area set aside for conferences. Three asari and one human were already hard at work: unboxing equipment, setting it up, configuring it, clearing away the detritus of a very sudden relocation.

"Miranda!" Kelly Chambers was the human, already working with her partner Tania, both of them looking very tired but determined to be busy.

"Liara sent me here to help, and to set up a work station for the Cerberus problem."

"Good," said Tania. "We can use another pair of hands."

* * *

Miranda threw herself into the work. Anything to avoid the fact that she was fighting a _serious_ case of distraction.

It was absurd. Miranda had always possessed a strong sex drive – and had always tried not to think too hard about the possibility that _her father_ had deliberately _designed_ her that way. Her first partner had come just before her eighteenth birthday, and over the thirty years since she had slept with perhaps a dozen others.

Still. All of them had been human. All of them had been _men_.

She understood herself well enough to know her own _type:_ very masculine, strong and fit, fully mature, attentive enough to be considerate of her desires. Most of them had not been very bright. No need to explore someone's mind, after all, if one seeks only to scratch an itch. In any case, for most of her life she had never been able to afford emotional attachment.

She had no animus toward women who enjoyed other women, or toward humans who found asari irresistible. She simply had never thought of herself as one of them. Never considered the possibility.

Yet now, there Liara was. Fifteen years familiar, an enemy, a rival, an ally, a friend, a confidante, almost a sister – but _not at all_ like any of the people Miranda had considered as a lover before. A little shorter than Miranda, slender, very feminine. Certainly fit and capable, but graceful rather than powerful. Human-like enough to be familiar, but alien in detail.

Then there was the asari's mind. Miranda had lost some of her youthful arrogance, but she still saw no reason to pretend that very many individuals could match her in intelligence, accomplishment, or sheer determination. The Illusive Man had been one. Shepard had been another. Liara was a third. Miranda had to admit, the thought of diving deep into the asari's mind _was_ very compelling, even aside from any physical attraction.

For a while, Miranda tried to keep the thought on that abstract plane: join with Liara, share thoughts and memories with someone who had become one of her few close friends, one of the few people she had learned to trust.

Yet something in the back of her brain refused to cooperate, kept replacing those abstractions with very concrete, very _carnal_ images. She caught herself wondering what to would be like to strip down and feel the asari's warm skin against her own, all along the length of her body. To feel asari lips brushing across the sensitive places of her throat, her breasts, her thighs. To feel clever asari fingers teasing her into delight. To see what that asari face looked like, blue eyes gone fully black, abandoned to passion.

_Stop that, _she told herself, banishing the images. And again, five minutes later. And again, five minutes after that.

To make matters worse, Miranda was working in close quarters with a pack of asari.

_Asari can see a liaison from kilometers off_, Liara had once told her_. Even a liaison that hasn't quite started yet. _Well, this one had certainly not started yet. It might not ever start. That didn't seem to make any difference. Nobody was _saying_ anything. Still, Miranda kept catching lithe, blue-skinned people watching her in odd moments, with concealed smiles and a gleam in their eyes.

Kelly was no help. The woman had an almost asari sense of empathy. She picked up that _something_ had changed for Miranda within ninety seconds, after which a quick murmured exchange with Tania was apparently enough to fill in the gaps. At least Kelly understood Miranda well enough to keep her thoughts to herself.

Soon, the asari were treated to a full dose of _Operative Lawson_. Focused solely on task, efficient, coldly correct, no wasted words or motions, an unspoken demand for high standards of performance. Miranda wasn't foolish enough to try to seize command of Liara's people, but she knew how to lead by example. The setup task that might have taken three hours to complete was finished in less than two.

The operations center complete, one of the asari sat down at a work station to take the first watch, while the others headed for the door and a long-delayed rest. Kelly lingered for a moment, watching Miranda with detached compassion.

"They're not laughing at you, you know."

Miranda said nothing, giving Kelly only a raised eyebrow and a cold glare.

Kelly made a long-suffering sigh. "Really, Miranda. You should know by now, all of Liara's people wish nothing but the best for you. Well. Aside from her father, of course, but I suspect even Aethyta is starting to come around."

Miranda shook her head, dropping her prickly demeanor and just letting fatigue wash over her for a moment. She leaned back in her chair, stretching her legs out. "All right, I suppose I know that. I've always gotten along well with all of Liara's acolytes. They're friends, at least to the extent that it doesn't conflict with their oaths. But you know my history. I've never been allowed time for the ordinary social graces, flirtation and small talk and gossip. All that monkey chatter. I'm a bit of a disaster at it."

"I know." Kelly smiled wickedly. "The one skill Miranda Lawson has never been able to develop: how to _relax_, and just be herself for a while."

"I'm not sure I even know who that is, so that I can be her." Miranda let her head roll back, resting it against the back of her chair, her eyes sliding closed for a moment. "I must be slowing down. Kelly, will you hold something in strict confidence?"

Kelly pulled up a chair of her own and sat down, making an intimate space. "Always."

"I'm getting very tired."

The younger woman nodded, waiting in silence.

"I've never felt this way before. Isn't that strange? I've been under pressure for my _entire bloody life_, always striving, always on the run, always fighting one damn fight after another. No breaks. Living in my father's house, then working for Cerberus, then surviving the Reapers, then working _against_ Cerberus, down to today. You would think even Henry Lawson's little monster would have hit her breaking point years ago. Well, I'm beginning to think I might see that point now. The moment when I finally run out of fuel."

"How do you feel about that?" Kelly asked quietly.

"Angry. Disgusted." Miranda hesitated. "Maybe a little scared."

Kelly cocked her head at Miranda, the ghost of a smile on her face.

Miranda rolled her eyes in disgust. "Right. Say it."

"I don't have to. You know psychology well enough to understand what's going on here."

"Well. Not the first time I've discovered that I have limits after all."

Kelly reached out and patted Miranda's knee affectionately. "For God's sake, Miranda, of_ course_ you're feeling worn out. Those of us who know you well are in _awe_ of the fact that you've managed to keep going for so long, without ever once taking a break or thinking about self-care."

"So." The words felt like heavy stones, hard to lift off the floor of her chest. "What do you recommend, _Dr. Chambers_?"

"You know that too. Take some time for yourself, for a change. Find out who you are when you're not defined by today's battle. Decide what you _want_ out of life." Kelly smiled. "It might help if you find someone to help you figure those things out. Someone you can trust. Someone you could say things to that you would never say to a therapist."

"Someone like Liara."

"That would work." The redhead's smile vanished, like a light turned out. "Not to mention that _you_ might be good for _her_. I've been worried about her. All of us have."

"I know."

"She's brilliant, driven, determined . . . but in some ways, Miranda, you're stronger than she is. She's managed to keep running on her memories of Shepard, and on a big stockpile of raw anger, but that may not be enough. I think she's starting to ask herself some dangerous questions."

"I know," Miranda said again. "_What's the point? Why should I care? Why should I keep fighting_?"

Kelly nodded.

"All right. Thank you, Kelly, you've given me some things to think about. Right now I need to send some messages before I go find a cot somewhere."

Kelly nodded, and slipped out of the room.

Miranda spent the next two hours at a terminal, reading her backlog of messages, sending out responses and queries, tapping into the Shadow Broker network. As usual, most of the traffic was trivial, little scraps of information that didn't seem likely to lead anywhere. Then one item caught her attention. She spent ten minutes re-reading the message, from an informant out in the far Traverse, and then doing follow-up research.

_Why would Cerberus operatives working halfway across the galaxy refer so often to an asari deity?_

She could sense it, a thought lurking in the back of her mind, stubbornly refusing to come clear. That, more than anything else, convinced her that it was time to stop. She rose, stretched, nodded to the asari technician at the other work station, and went to the door.

Outside, she had to stop for a moment, just to breathe the chilly morning air.

The roiling activity of a few hours ago was still now, most of Liara's people in shelter to snatch a few hours of rest. Only a few acolytes in black commando gear stood watch, like onyx statues posted around the perimeter of the camp. The sky seemed enormous overhead, full of a crystal-pure light, the last few stars just barely visible against the rising day. The sun had not quite made an appearance, but the world was full of the hushed anticipation that comes just before dawn. Miranda saw nothing but a few wisps of cloud on the distant horizon.

_God, this is the second sunrise I've seen in a row, and Thessia's day is a little long too. I've been going for almost thirty hours now. No wonder I can't think straight._

Miranda started looking for one of the barracks, somewhere the acolytes would have stacked bunks out of the wind. Then she hesitated. She asked one of the sentries a question, nodded in thanks, and then followed the asari's pointing finger.

Liara had her own room in one of the shelters, small and cramped, but a place where her people could keep her safe and she could rest. Miranda exchanged a nod with the acolyte standing guard, and then tapped on the door.

"Liara?"

Silence.

Miranda checked, and the door wasn't locked. Another glance at the acolyte, who unbent enough to give her a slight nod.

_Liara must have left orders not to keep me out._

Quietly, she opened the door and stepped inside.

The space was _very_ cramped. There was just enough room for a work station, a footlocker, a tiny refresher, and a cot. In the dim light, Miranda could see a shape on the cot, barely moving, sound asleep. The intricacies of an asari fringe, and a bare blue-skinned shoulder, were all that showed above the edge of a heavy blanket.

As quietly as she could manage, given the small space, Miranda peeled out of her bodysuit. She stacked her gear in the corner, hurrying now because the shelter wasn't heated and the air was _cold_ on her bare skin. Then, very carefully, she slipped into the cot.

Liara suddenly startled awake, one hand reaching for the sidearm under her pillow. "Who . . ."

"Shh. It's Miranda." She eased closer, pulling the blanket over both of them, one arm naturally curving around the asari's waist from behind. Part of her mind took a sudden interest, at the sensation of warm skin and fine, soft scales under the palm of her hand.

Liara relaxed, her neck twisting so she could look over her shoulder. "What's happening?"

Miranda leaned in to brush her lips across Liara's, warmth spreading through her at the intimate contact. "Everything's fine. It's quiet outside. I just needed to sleep, and I decided I would rather do that with you."

"Mmm. That's a very fine idea," said Liara, sleepy again. She shimmied slightly on the cot, and suddenly her body was pressed lightly against Miranda's, along its entire length. One of her feet flexed, the sole idly caressing Miranda's ankle. "I should point out that this cot is barely big enough for _one_ of us, much less two."

"We'll manage. Unless one of us thrashes around in her sleep."

"I don't. Do you?"

"Not that I know of."

"That's good, then." Liara sighed, and was instantly asleep once more.

It took a while longer for Miranda to drop off. She was too aware of the asari in her arms, sound asleep, trusting as a child.

_Definitely not a child, though._

Warmth. Solid muscle. Feminine lines, like her own familiar shape but different in detail. The feel of those infinitely soft scales against Miranda's skin. The scent of her body, heavier than before, still very pleasant. Miranda found it even more difficult to dismiss _those_ imaginings, not with their inspiration so intimately close at hand.

_Never mind. If we tried to have sex right now, it would be all elbows and knees and we'd wreck the cot. Another time._

That did it. The fatigue reached up and pulled Miranda down into darkness . . . and yet there was something comforting about it, for once.


	10. Cards on the Table

**_13 Thargelia 3364 AR (19 January 2198), Shadow Broker Site, Eramethos Mountains, Thessia_**

Miranda drifted upward from a deep sleep, slowly at first. Then some piece of her mind became aware that she was being _watched_. That was enough to snap her awake, as if shot out of a catapult.

She found herself on that cramped little cot, lying on her back, the blanket pulled up almost to her neck. Liara was there, a few centimeters away, her body warm all along Miranda's left side. The asari lay on her own side with her head propped up on one arm, enormous blue eyes watching Miranda's face.

"Good morning," she said, and leaned in close for a brief kiss.

Miranda growled in exasperation. "Were you _watching me sleep_?"

"Not for long. I should point out that you've got me trapped against the wall. It was either that or climb over you to reach the refresher. With the risk of digging an elbow into your stomach along the way."

"I see. You were just being polite."

"Yes. Well, that, and your face is interesting while you're asleep, as long as your subconscious mind thinks you're in a safe place." The asari smiled. "An entirely different personality emerges. I think I'd like to get to know her."

"She probably drools."

Liara snorted, then became serious. "Miranda . . . I know this isn't what you are accustomed to . . ."

Tentatively, Miranda extricated a hand from under the blanket and reached up to caress Liara's face, run the ball of her thumb across Liara's lips. "No, it isn't. Maybe that's a good thing. My love life has never been what you would call _healthy_. Maybe it's time for me to try being involved with someone I respect, someone I can trust. See if that works better."

Liara shifted. One blue hand moved under the blanket, smoothing across Miranda's skin, sliding up between her breasts to feel her heartbeat. "Thank you."

Miranda felt an odd sense of comfort at Liara's gesture, the quiet intimacy of it, affectionate rather than aggressive. "What about you?" she asked. "You come at this from the opposite direction. I didn't think you had ever been involved with anyone but Shepard."

Liara's eyes half-closed, became shadowed. She moved closer, pillowing her head on Miranda's shoulder, snuggling into the curve of the woman's arm. That hand emerged from under the blanket, bringing with it a piece of jewelry for Liara to contemplate. It was a plain obsidian band, hanging around her forearm, usually kept under her clothing and away from prying eyes. Her bonding bracelet, Miranda knew. A gift from Shepard.

"No," said Liara at last. "I suppose I'm unusual in some respects. For a long time, I thought I lacked any innate interest in _eros_. Shepard taught me otherwise."

"And since he's been gone?" Miranda murmured.

"It's been too soon."

"You're still mourning him."

Liara sighed, resting her hand back on Miranda's body, the obsidian bangle cool against their skin. "I think I always will be, somewhere in the back of my mind. He was _such_ a remarkable person. I loved him beyond all reason."

"I know. Are you sure it still isn't too soon?"

"Not if it's you," Liara said simply. "Miranda, you're the closest non-asari friend I have. I've never said anything about it – I know how uncomfortable you are with praise or admiration – but I've been attracted to you for a long time. I love the passionate conviction you bring to everything you do. I love the look in your eye when you face a challenge. I love watching your mind work. From there, well, I'm asari. For us, that kind of attraction-to-personality leads naturally to _eros_."

Miranda squirmed slightly, proving Liara's point. _It _is_ hard to listen to praise, even when the object has nothing to do with the traits Henry Lawson selected from a bioengineer's menu. Still the same old self-esteem issues._

"As for Shepard, it's been over a decade since he . . ." Liara hesitated, then forged ahead. "Since he left us. He made me promise not to turn down love, if the opportunity ever arose. I don't know if he ever thought it would be _you_, but I think he would have approved."

Miranda lay quietly for a few moments, just enjoying the warmth and closeness of their embrace. She caressed Liara's hand idly, then touched the bonding bracelet with her fingertips.

"It's strange," she murmured at last. "One would think Shepard would come between us."

Liara made an interrogative noise, her eyes closed in calm relaxation.

"There was a time when I resented the _hell_ out of you, Liara."

"I know." Liara opened her eyes, looked guilelessly up at Miranda's face. "You spent years reconstructing his body and mind, actually improving what he was before, producing the man who could lead us through that horrible war. You spent so much time with him, you knew him so intimately, and he was _just_ the kind of man to appeal to you. No wonder you loved him. Then he slammed the door on any possibility of fulfillment for those feelings. Because of me."

Miranda shrugged slightly, and laced her fingers with Liara's. "I got over it. Even before he died, I think. We don't always get what we want. Sometimes we _shouldn't_."

"Hmm." Liara frowned, looking away for a moment. "Miranda, there's something you should know, if you want to take this thing of ours any further."

"What is it?"

"There are things about Shepard, things that _no one_ knows but me. Not even you, who knew him well enough to rebuild him." She looked back, holding Miranda's gaze. "If we're intimate, if we go through the joining, those are going to be your secrets too."

Miranda shook her head slightly, frowning in confusion. "I can't imagine what you could tell me that could possibly change my opinion of him."

"It's not that kind of secret. It's not something I can just _tell_ you, anyway. You would never believe me. You'll have to see it for yourself, experience it for yourself. After which you may find that it changes _everything_."

"Very mysterious." Miranda thought about it for a moment, then shook her head again, this time in determination. "It makes no difference. Bloody hell, Liara, you're the _Shadow Broker_. I'm going to get a lot more of your secrets than that, if you're willing to go the whole distance with this. It doesn't frighten me."

Liara moved then, rising up on the cot, her bare breasts sliding against Miranda's body. She looked down into Miranda's face, close enough for their breath to mingle, her own expression suddenly full of possessive hunger. Fingers burrowed into Miranda's hair and found the sensitive spots on the nape of her neck.

"Nothing ever frightens _you_," Liara murmured. "I love you, Miranda."

_I love –_

Her throat locked on the words. Whether it was because they were so unfamiliar, or because Liara's fingers had just done something startling with the nerve endings around the back of her neck, Miranda couldn't be sure. She moaned quietly instead, and let her body go limp and boneless on the cot. She felt warm breath on her throat, lips brushing across her skin, moving downward.

_God. Now?_

Then there came a sound at the door of their shelter, a quiet knock. "_Despoina_?"

The two of them froze, ice-blue eyes staring into cobalt-blue in sudden disbelief. Then the Shadow Broker _giggled_, the moment thoroughly broken.

"I swear to God," Miranda whispered, "I am going to _strangle_ Vara."

"Don't do that," said Liara, a wicked grin on her face. "You know she's the one to interrupt us because no one else has the courage. Something urgent must have come up."

"Something urgent was _going_ to come up. Never mind. Let's get untangled from this cot."

* * *

An image, taken from a high vantage point.

Downtown Armali. The Plaza of Explorers. Every street leading away from there, out into the city for a distance of over a kilometer in every direction. _Filled_ with people. A sea of them, eddying slowly, lanes held open in their midst for the occasional quick transit. Some of the people held signs and placards. Most of them were simply _present_.

Miranda realized that there was something else different about a throng of asari, when seen from above. Even at a distance too great to make out faces, there was a _grain_ to the crowd, the result of a million asari crests all pointed in the same direction. All focused on the government buildings at one end of the Plaza.

"They've been gathering since early morning," Vara reported. "Coming in from all over the city, even from the suburbs. On foot, most of them. The city is completely shut down. General strike. Nothing's moving except emergency services."

"Law enforcement?" asked Liara quietly.

"City militia, standard gear and rules of engagement. No violence that we've seen. No sign of the Black Hand."

"All right. I'll take the call."

Liara turned to face the big screen hanging at one end of the operations center. Miranda edged aside, sat down at an unoccupied work station, so as watch from a position outside the camera's field of view.

The screen flickered, and then an asari face appeared. Miranda felt her eyes widen in surprise. She knew the stranger was a Matriarch, so she had half-expected an aged face, weathered but full of personality. Instead, this Matriarch appeared youthful and strikingly beautiful: oval face, high cheekbones, a long, straight nose, full lips with a dark-blue half-stripe, and subtle markings around her eyes that emphasized their length and shape. The eyes themselves looked much like Miranda's own, glacial blue, with an intensity in them that seemed to hold no patience for mortal failings.

"Matriarch Ariadne," Liara murmured in greeting.

"Dr. T'Soni. I am pleased to see you well."

Safely anonymous, Miranda rolled her eyes in exasperation. _I can see both sides of this conversation are going to be playing this for the cameras. All smiles, all politeness, but ready to sink in the knife at the first opportunity._

Liara simply made a diplomat's smile, apparently sincere but utterly lacking in warmth. "I appreciate your concern for my well-being, Matriarch. May I inquire as to the purpose of this call?"

"You have seen the situation in the city?"

"I have."

"What do you intend to do about it?"

Liara cocked her head. "Matriarch, I intend to participate in the political process, in my capacity as a citizen of the _polis_ of Armali. As is my right."

"Do not dissemble, Doctor. You are _not_ involved in this crisis as a simple citizen of Armali. Your position as this so-called _Shadow Broker_ gives you access to information and resources no ordinary citizen can match. You have a responsibility . . ."

Abruptly, Liara raised a hand to interrupt the Matriarch, a surprisingly imperious gesture. "Matriarch, I am fully aware of my responsibilities in this matter. As a citizen, it is my duty to use any information and resources available to me in the interests of the people of our _polis_, in accordance with the law and as my informed conscience may dictate. _All_ the people, Matriarch. Not a limited and self-selected class, not a few individuals who have grown accustomed to doing as they please with state sanction. _The people are sovereign_."

Ariadne shook her head, her contempt barely concealed. "You cannot deceive me with the political catechism you learned in primary school, young one. I can see where this is leading."

"Where might that be, Matriarch?"

"More power for Liara T'Soni, of course. The pleasures that come with power. The ability to decide who will prosper and who will decline, who will enjoy freedom and who will be confined, who will live and who will die. The flattery and adulation that come with that power, as your inferiors compete for your favor. The growing following of acolytes, ready to kill or die at your command."

_Now that's an example of massive projection, if I've ever heard one,_ Miranda thought.

Liara laughed aloud. "Is _this_ an example of a Matriarch's wisdom, empathy, and deep insight? I already have far more power than I ever wanted, Matriarch. More than enough for any personal ambition I might ever have held. I assure you, it is not a pleasure to carry. I live for the day when I can set it aside."

"What prevents you?"

"I doubt you would understand the answer to that," said Liara, still apparently unconcerned. "As for the situation on the streets in Armali? It is the _people_ who are on your doorstep, Matriarch, presenting a petition to their government, as is _their_ right. I have done my best to provide them some of the data they need to make informed decisions, but I have no command over their actions. I suggest you negotiate with them."

Ariadne nodded. "Perhaps I and the other _archons_ shall do that. You realize, of course, that it will make no difference in the long run."

Liara said nothing, but her face took up an inquiring expression.

"Come now, child, your analytic skills must surely be up to such a simple challenge." Ariadne shifted in the screen, as if she prepared to lecture. "Assume that nothing significant changes in the social or political structure of the Asari Republics. Assume further that no setbacks occur, no further disasters on the level of the Krogan Rebellions or the Reaper War. Then we may project economic growth of about one percent per year for the foreseeable future. At that rate, we will return to pre-war levels of prosperity in about one hundred and fifty years."

Liara nodded patiently.

"Do you see? Long before then, all asari will have been lifted out of poverty and into a state of material and social comfort. As a result, Dr. T'Soni, _they will forget_. They will forget the suffering of the war, the dissatisfactions of this brief moment in history. They will forget the principles they currently espouse. They will be content to return to their everyday lives, leaving the business of government to those who have always had the talent and the outlook for it. The greatest of the Matriarchs, in other words."

"Matriarch," Liara objected, "if the reforms we propose are enacted, then the economic recovery will move more quickly."

"You are doubtless correct. Of course, by crippling the ability of the Matriarchs to provide asari society with wise guidance, you risk a higher level of instability, a greater probability of serious setbacks. Still, the _average_ rate of growth might well be better. I will stipulate a rate of _two_ percent per year. In which case, the return to pre-war levels of prosperity will only require about seventy years . . . and the point at which the people will forget will come that much sooner."

Ariadne took on a sympathetic expression, an elder breaking bad news to a child.

"Someone with your expertise cannot be unaware of this, Dr. T'Soni. It is one of the permanent features of asari history. Maidens, matrons, the run of ordinary Matriarchs, they never remain _engaged_ for long. Always and forever, they turn back to the business of living, and choose to ignore the responsibilities of wise government. There is nothing you or I can do about it. So yes, perhaps my colleagues and I shall negotiate with the people in the Plaza of Explorers. In the long run, it will make no difference."

"I see. Matriarch, at this point I am beginning to wonder at the reason for your call. It does not strike me as a wise use of your time to attempt to instruct me regarding such trivially obvious facts."

Miranda smirked. She knew Liara well enough to recognize biting sarcasm in the asari's voice when she heard it. It sounded a little like her own voice, when she was feeling particularly waspish.

"I hope to convince you to cease your interference," said Ariadne. "Your involvement in this dispute, and the involvement of certain of your associates, has been _most_ irresponsible. Certain parties have already felt the need to respond with violence. It would be most regrettable if they felt compelled to react even more strongly."

Liara lifted her chin and gave the Matriarch a bright smile. "I understand. Thank you for your wise counsel, Matriarch. I shall _certainly_ give it all the consideration it merits."

A small gesture of one hand, and the connection was severed. At which point, the operations center filled with angry asari voices.

Miranda remained silent, watching Liara. Who did not appear even slightly concerned.

"Enough," said Liara, after her people had their chance to vent their anger. "Nerylla, reality check. Did the Matriarch win that exchange?"

Nerylla, the oldest and most experienced of Liara's acolytes, shook her head decisively. "_Despoina_, I've seen Matriarchs fence verbally for _years_ without descending to overt threats. She just did it less than ten minutes into her first conversation with you."

"She's worried," said Miranda, not sure what made her think so, beyond intuition. "Something is pushing her in a direction she doesn't like."

"The protests?" Vara wondered.

Liara frowned in deep thought, and then shook her head. "I don't think so. She's not actually wrong about the historical trends. Matriarchs are good at making concessions in the short term, expecting to walk them back later after an immediate conflict is over. Agreeing to limited political reforms, in order to defuse the current situation, would actually be a good move for her."

"Then why make threats against us? Why bother to talk to us at all?" Miranda nodded, suddenly more certain than before. "She's on a deadline. She can't just deal with the dissidents. She has to deal with _us_, with the Shadow Broker and her allies, and she's afraid she doesn't have the resources to do it in time."

Liara nodded slowly, a smile spreading across her face. "It's the Cerberus connection. Notice that she specifically mentioned my status as the Shadow Broker, and she hinted broadly about some of my _associates_. That suggests people like you and Kelly."

"I could come up with any number of alternative hypotheses for her behavior," Vara complained.

"So could I, but let's work with this one for now," said Liara. "Miranda, last night you said you were going to work your contacts. I never got around to asking you if you found anything."

Miranda saw it: Nerylla and Kelly, at least, suddenly trying very hard to suppress smiles. She sighed. "As a matter of fact, I did. I'm just not sure what it means yet."

"Tell us, then."

"A sheaf of message traffic among ex-Cerberus operatives in the Traverse, intercepted and decrypted. Mostly trivial stuff, minor logistics and planning messages, but there's an asari word that turned up several times. _Tevura_."

Liara's eyes opened wide, as her mind went into high gear.

"I don't get it. What's a _tevura_?" asked Kelly.

"It's not a _what_, _agápi_, it's a _who_," said Tania. "Tevura was the ancient Calydonian goddess of love, sex, travel, and the rule of law."

Miranda blinked. "That's an odd portfolio."

"Not really." Tania grinned. "Asari are very . . . what's the term? We prefer to find mates a long way from home."

"Exogamous," said Kelly.

"Right. We're that. A _lot_. So in ancient times, asari spent a great deal of time traveling and looking for mates, which gives you the association between love, sex, and travel."

"What about the rule-of-law piece?" Miranda inquired.

"Laws of hospitality," Tania explained. "The whole system only worked if you could count on being welcomed, count on a fair chance to earn a living and find a mate, wherever you went. Most of our oldest laws and customs are all about what you owe people when you go to visit them, and how to treat the stranger who comes to live among you. Which helped when we made contact with non-asari."

"That still doesn't answer the question of why a pack of Cerberus operatives would be interested in this goddess," Miranda pointed out.

"Because we named a _planet_ after her," said Liara. "The outermost major planet in the Parnitha star system is Tevura. There used to be a few scientific and mining outposts among its moons, but the Reapers destroyed those near the end of the war. As far as I know, no asari have been there ever since."

Miranda nodded in understanding. "A perfect place for Cerberus to hide something."

Liara nodded. "We may have a target."


	11. Ghosts

_**14 Thargelia 3364 AR (20 January 2198), Shadow Broker Site, Eramethos Mountains, Thessia**_

Liara and her closest associates gathered in the operations center just after the midday meal, a very specific extranet connection put up on the main screen. When Miranda arrived, she saw nothing but a scatter of sensor readouts, a single video channel looking isolated in the upper right corner. At the moment the video showed a deep-blue orb hanging in space, small against the backdrop of stars, but growing slowly larger.

Well over three billion kilometers away, _Cannae_ began its stealth run. On Thessia, Liara and her people watched the results in real time.

Tevura was an ice-giant world, about twenty times as massive as Earth, analogous to Uranus or Neptune in the Sol system. It had several moons, composed mostly of water ice contaminated with organic compounds and silicates, none of them more than three or four hundred kilometers across. Before the war, the asari maintained a few installations on and around Tevura: helium-3 mining in the planet's atmosphere, hydrocarbon mining on the largest moon, an emergency repair station on another moon, a few scientific outposts. Everything had been destroyed in the last few days of the war, and the Asari Republics had not yet found the resources to rebuild.

"_T minus thirty minutes. Drives configured for silent running. Passive sensor array at maximum."_

_Cannae_ was half an hour from its closest approach to Tevura, diving through the planet's system of moons at about one-tenth of the speed of light. Liara's captain had selected a trajectory that would give her a close look at almost all of Tevura's moons. Along the way, _Cannae _would do its best to imitate a fast-moving hole in space. Even another warship in the area would have had difficulty registering the ship's presence. Liara hoped whatever small outpost Cerberus might have placed would do no better.

Miranda moved to her workstation, sat down at the console, and called up the crew manifest for _Cannae_.

During the Reaper War, the ship had been under the command of a turian named Quintus Trevanian, once a senior officer of T'Soni Analytics on Illium. After the war, Trevanian had gone home to Palaven to help with the rebuilding, with Liara's blessing. Now _Cannae_ sailed under the command of Aziza Mkapa, a woman of East African origins, who had been an agent of the Shadow Broker organization since before Liara's time. Miranda had never met Mkapa in person, but knew her by reputation: tough, fierce, and smart.

_Even now, even after her losses in the war, the Shadow Broker has a small flotilla at her disposal. Three stealth frigates, built on the design of the original _Normandy_._

_Although those ships always seem to have too much to attend to, just keeping the Broker network active across the galaxy. I don't think Liara has been able to call them all together on the same mission for a long time. Not since that strike on Cerberus, just at the end of the Collector campaign, the one that gave Shepard and me a chance to get away from the Illusive Man's control._

_Too bad. It might be nice to have that much force ready to apply to one problem._

Miranda glanced at the sensor feed, as _Cannae_ fell past Tevura's outermost moon. Gravitics, exactly as expected for the tiny moon's mass. No sign of EM broadcast. No excess infrared, to indicate heat venting from a hidden power plant. The moon was a potato-shaped lump of rock and ice, tumbling slowly through space, utterly uninteresting.

Miranda felt a pair of soft hands fall on her shoulders. She glanced up, to see Liara standing behind her, leaning intimately close.

"Anything yet?"

"Nothing. Check off Erybos. It wasn't a likely candidate anyway."

Liara nodded, and glanced up at the map on the main display. "Almost twenty minutes until the close encounter with Kerotis. I doubt we'll see anything until then. Do you need anything?"

"Coffee, black."

Liara made a face, sticking out her tongue for a moment in disgust. "Coffee. _Eugh_. Why do I keep getting involved with people who drink the stuff?"

Miranda clicked her tongue twice. "Yours not to question why, T'Soni. Yours but to go and fetch a mug. Surely Vara has an emergency supply somewhere."

"Yes, Miranda," said the Shadow Broker, and went to find a mug of coffee.

_Cannae_ swept past another knob of rock and ice, this one somewhat larger and spherical in shape. Miranda watched as it swept by, a dull brown in color, with narrow white stripes where fresh ice had been exposed. Still nothing on any of the sensors.

Liara returned, sitting close at Miranda's side and handing her a chipped ceramic mug of coffee. Miranda took a sip, and growled softly under her breath.

_She's right. This is terrible_. _At least it has caffeine in it._

Ten minutes before the next moon came along. Miranda leaned back, enjoying the warmth of the mug, taking the occasional sip just to prove she could. Liara sat silently beside her, patient as a cat at a mouse-hole, watching everyone work. She reached up with one hand, to idly stroke the back of Miranda's neck. It was rather distracting. Miranda thought about making a mild protest, but decided against it. It was rather pleasant too.

_I think I could get used to these displays of affection._

_Strange. I don't remember her being this way with Shepard. Physically inseparable in private, but in public they were all prim and proper._

_Of course, Shepard had Alliance regs to worry about. Liara doesn't have to be concerned about losing the respect of her people by showing off her lover. Quite the opposite, in fact._

Miranda thought about relaxing into the asari's touch, maybe reciprocating a little – but then something began to vaguely bother her about the sensor feeds. She stared at them, and couldn't see anything specifically wrong. Yet in the back of her mind there hovered a sense of presence, an artifact in the data that should not be there. Slowly, Miranda leaned forward, losing that teasing touch, and set her coffee aside.

"What is it?" Liara asked quietly.

"Not sure yet," Miranda told her, not sharply, but with intent focus.

Liara took the hint, and went silent.

Miranda's hands moved across the keypad, slowly, tentatively. After a moment, she didn't see the numbers or the waveforms anymore. Some part of her mind that understood only mathematics had come awake, sniffing at the air like a hound on an elusive scent. She brought some of the data streams to the foreground, pushed others down into lower priority. She applied one filter, then another. She paused for several seconds, scowling up at the map on the main display, and then went into a flurry of activity.

"Damn," she muttered after a minute of this. "I think I just ran off the edge of my expertise. Liara, do you have any top-flight astrophysicists on call?"

"Not on a moment's notice, but I can reach out to a few if needed. Why?"

"Neutrinos."

Liara frowned.

"Every starship carries a neutrino sensor," Miranda explained. "No one normally watches it. The primary source for neutrinos is almost always the nearest star, and that's usually not hard to spot."

Liara nodded in understanding, her eyes intent on Miranda's face.

Miranda pointed at one of the trend-lines in the data. "The sensor on _Cannae_ has been showing steadily increasing neutrino flux as it dives toward Tevura."

"That doesn't make sense. _Cannae_'s distance from Parnitha has been nearly constant this whole time. The neutrino flux from the star shouldn't vary all that much."

"Well." Miranda folded her arms, suddenly not certain of what she had seen. "Most stars show fluctuations in their neutrino output. Fusion activity in the core flutters a little, even for the most stable stars. It takes so long for light and heat to get from the core to the radiating surface that we only notice long-term changes in energy output. But neutrinos just fly out through the star's mass at lightspeed, not interacting with any of it. We see _those_ almost in real time."

"So this could just be a slight increase in Parnitha's energy release across the last few hours."

"Right. Or it could be a neutrino source somewhere around Tevura. Something that _Cannae_ is approaching."

"A nuclear reactor."

"It would have to be a big one." Miranda made a sharp-edged smile. "Clever. Almost no one uses nuclear power anymore, not when a mass-effect core is so much easier, cleaner, and safer. But a mass-effect core shows up like a beacon on gravitic sensors, unless it's specifically tuned for stealth."

Liara snorted. "Mass-effect cores aren't always _safer_. I once got one to blow up, rather spectacularly."

"Not the point. So how do we find out for sure?"

The asari thought for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction. "Simple. Any change in solar neutrino flux out by Tevura will have passed through _here_ a little over three hours ago. I'll reach out to the University of Serrice. I think the Astronomy department has rebuilt their solar observatory since the war. Contact _Cannae_ and let them know what we suspect."

Liara hurried away, off to her own workstation to make calls. For her part, Miranda hooked into the extranet connections into the outer Parnitha system. "Thessia ground station to _Cannae. _Priority."

"_This is _Cannae_. Go ahead, ground station_." Aziza Mkapa's voice, speaking English with a noticeable accent.

In a few clipped sentences, Miranda explained the deductions she and Liara had made. "There shouldn't be a working power plant of any sort out there, _Cannae_. If there's a big nuclear installation, it's probably running a big facility. Might be armed. Be careful."

"_Acknowledged, ground station. We'll retask our sensor team, and keep on our toes. _Cannae_ out._"

_Cannae_ swept past another small moon, and another, with no more sign than before of habitation. Tevura itself grew, and began to sweep past the flying starship: a banded globe of deep blue, lit by the distant sun but looking terribly cold nonetheless.

Miranda watched the returns from the neutrino sensor, and tracked the flux as it continued to climb. She played with mathematical models, comparing the data to _Cannae_'s trajectory, trying to determine where the neutrino source must be. She took a sip of coffee and made a face, realizing it had gone cold in her mug. She wondered what was taking Liara so long.

Kerotis rose above the limb of the planet as _Cannae_ continued along its course. Tevura's largest moon was a giant, over five thousand kilometers across, appearing surprisingly smooth and featureless. Miranda could see no craters on the surface, no bright regions to indicate fresh ice, nothing but a blur of orangish color on its sunlit face. She tapped at her console, and nodded to herself at the results. Kerotis resembled Titan, with a thick, bitterly cold atmosphere of nitrogen, its surface forever concealed beneath a hydrocarbon haze. A world forever wrapped in – what was the old word? – _smog_.

_No chance of a visual fix on anything on the surface_.

Miranda considered calling _Cannae_, then realized that Mkapa would already have seen the implications. The ship would have every sensor out at full extension as it swept past, including those that did not rely on visible light.

Kerotis grew quickly in the distance, an orange ball about one-third lit by distant Parnitha. As a minute passed, then two, the giant moon expanded to fill the viewscreen.

"_One minute to Kerotis close approach_," came the word from _Cannae_.

Liara reappeared at Miranda's side, bending close to hand her a data chip. "The observatory was able to pull their neutrino-flux data from the period in question," she murmured. "Parnitha's neutrino output was close to constant in _Cannae_'s current light-cone. If anything, it might have declined slightly."

"They're out there, right enough," said Miranda. "I'll give you two to one odds they're on Kerotis. _Look_ at the place. Tailor-made to hide something big."

"There might not even be an infrared signature," Liara agreed. "That hydrocarbon cloud layer is opaque in infrared too. Not to mention that Cerberus could have whole oceans of liquid methane to dump their waste heat."

"So what happens if they don't see anything conclusive?"

"They finish their run and come home. Then we rethink."

Miranda nodded, unhappy at that conclusion but unable to see any better plan. Then a thought came to her. She leaned over her console again, looking at that data track again, and reading the chip Liara had given her.

_Neutrinos are nature's ghosts. They form in nuclear reactions, and go flying away at the speed of light, and nothing stops them. So many of them go flitting through our bodies every minute that they can't possibly be counted. Even a wall of lead, light-years thick, wouldn't stop more than half of them._

_I know Parnitha's output now, as it was measured here. Inverse-square law gives me the expected solar flux at Tevura's distance. Anything above that, we can assume is a Cerberus installation, located on the surface of Kerotis somewhere. We know how much energy is lost to neutrinos from a helium-3 fusion reaction . . ._

There were more assumptions in the estimate than Miranda cared for. Still, the final computation was simple enough, once she had accounted for everything.

"My God," she breathed, glancing up at the main viewscreen. _Cannae_ had finished its flyby of Kerotis and was now receding into space, preparing to scan the last few of Tevura's moons.

"What is it?" asked Liara.

"They're running close to _twenty gigawatts_. That's enough for a whole city. A _big_ city, at that."

"That can't be right. I've never heard of a fixed Cerberus installation that needed that much power."

"The Sanctuary facility on Horizon briefly pulled more than that, but that was a special case." Miranda shook her head. "Are we sure Cerberus isn't repurposing a pre-war asari installation?"

"Absolutely sure. The asari bases on Kerotis were _smashed_." Suddenly Liara's face took on a tensely _excited_ look, as if she enjoyed a hunt. "Miranda, assume that some Cerberus splinter cell built this installation. That's after Cerberus was decisively defeated during the Reaper War, and after half the galaxy has spent the last twelve years tracking down the remnants. What portion of its remaining resources, do you think, have been invested in this one project?"

"I wouldn't want to guess. Not without a full-scale intel assessment."

The asari smiled. "We can put one together later today. I think you know what the result will be."

Miranda checked _Cannae_'s progress, and glanced down at the neutrino flux reading. As she had half expected, it was declining once again as Kerotis fell behind the ship. "It's there, sure enough. And you're right. We deal with that installation, that may finally be the _end_ for Cerberus. Do you have enough force to manage it?"

Liara shook her head, but she didn't look displeased. "No. Not if there are defenses to match our estimate. Fortunately, the Shadow Broker doesn't need to deal with something like this _entirely _on her own."

* * *

Miranda didn't understand what Liara meant, not until late that evening.

The two of them sat in the operations center, processing the last of _Cannae_'s collection, putting the finishing touches on that intelligence assessment. The remains of two trays of camp rations had been shoved to the side, after being judged barely edible. After a long day of brain-work, Miranda was beginning to look forward to that cot in Liara's shelter. Whether Liara was in it or not.

Then a _noise _came from outside, like a storm of wind and thunder. Miranda looked up, startled, and made to reach for her sidearm.

"That would be our ride," said Liara, very calmly.

Miranda cocked an eyebrow at her. "You're doing it again."

Wide, innocent blue eyes stared back.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. Being all _mysterious_ and _oracular_."

"Well. I have an image to keep up."

"Not with _me_, you don't."

Liara chuckled, and rose from her chair in a very leisurely fashion, picking up the tablet with all her finished intelligence. "All right, then let's say I have to keep in practice. Come on."

They emerged from the ops center into darkness and chaos. It was full night, but when Miranda glanced upward she saw no stars. Some vast shape hovered over the campsite, blocking out the sky and filling the world with the noise of engines.

Asari moved all around, purposefully, but in no great hurry. If the camp was under attack, no one seemed to be overly concerned about it.

Then, all at once, the shape in the sky turned on its floodlights.

Miranda blinked helplessly, blinded for a moment, and then began to see. A long, narrow fuselage, almost twice as long as the small mountain plateau where they had camped. A great delta wing, with four engines mounted on it. Alliance colors, blue and white and silver. A name.

_Normandy_.

A door in the ship's belly opened, spilling more light out across the camp. Asari in commando gear began to hurry aboard, hauling a great deal of equipment with them.

"My God," Miranda shouted, to be heard over the noise. "How did you arrange _this_?"

"A call to the Citadel and Admiral Hackett," said Liara. "Foreigners setting up a base on Kerotis is an asari problem. Unfortunately, the Republics don't have the firepower yet to make an immediate response, and it would take weeks of debate to get them to act. No doubt, Cerberus allies on Thessia would do their best to delay and obstruct. On the other hand, _Cerberus_ setting up a base anywhere in the galaxy is an _Alliance_ problem."

"That's still a diplomatic incident in the making," Miranda protested.

"Not if the Alliance gets the Citadel to send a Spectre, and cut through all the questions of jurisdiction."

A new figure stood at the top of _Normandy_'s boarding ramp, a woman in deep-blue combat armor, watching attentively as asari boarded with their weapons and gear. She saw Liara and Miranda standing on the ground, and waved.

"Come on," Liara repeated. "We're going on this expedition too."

Miranda found herself grinning, excitement slicing through her usual detachment. "Absolutely. I wouldn't miss _this_ for the world."

Side by side, she and Liara followed the last of the commandos onto the hovering ship. To no surprise at all, she found that she recognized the sharp-eyed, dark-haired woman who stood at the top of the ramp, captain's bars on the shoulders of her armor.

"Hello, Ashley," said Liara.


	12. Collision

_**15 Thargelia 3364 AR (21 January 2198), High Thessia Orbit**_

Captain Ashley Williams didn't smile. Miranda wasn't sure that she _ever_ smiled anymore. She did, however, have a _very_ effective look of stern approval.

"Liara. Miranda. I understand you've uncovered a Cerberus base that needs smashing."

"Actually, first it needs infiltration so that we can pull down all of their operational data." Liara grinned. "Then there can be as much smashing as you like."

"Good. How long will it take for the rest of your ships to get here?"

"I'm afraid I can't divert _Dark River_. They're up to their necks in preventing a turian colony from going violently separatist. _Cannae_ is already on station, of course, and _Three Banners_ should arrive in about six hours."

Ashley nodded in satisfaction. "That should be enough. We'll have a planning session once everyone's here. I understand you're having something of a revolution."

"Yes. It started in Armali, and that's where the confrontation has been the fiercest. As of today, we've seen protest marches and political activism in some of the other Republics as well." Liara handed Ashley a data chip. "A complete assessment for the Spectres, and for Admiral Hackett. Cerberus is definitely supporting some of the reactionaries, in Armali and elsewhere."

"Well. Let's hope we can nip this in the bud, then."

"I have every confidence." Liara paused, then went on. "How are Owen and the girls?"

Ashley's face softened, just enough for Miranda to notice. "They're fine. Owen gets grumpier every year, but I'm used to that. Marian and Bethany are growing like weeds. Marian was asking about you, a while ago. You've got a bad case of hero-worship from that one. I think she may want to go off to college and get a degree in the sciences when she grows up, instead of picking up a rifle."

"I'll make sure to come visit, next time I have business on the Citadel."

"Do that." Ashley heard a chime from her omni-tool, opened the device and flash-read a message from it. "Look, I'm still on my morning shift, and a hundred things to do to get ready for our little expedition. Putting troops on a Titan-class moon, against armed opposition, is no joke. Let's have the girl talk when this is over, okay?"

"Of course. I should see to my people as well."

"I can give you the flag cabin for a headquarters." Ashley cocked her head, still not smiling but looking faintly amused. "It's not much like you remember it, but all the connections are still there. Miranda, I have a half-cabin free in officer country. Will that do?"

"Miranda will be staying with me," Liara said quietly.

"Oh." Ashley did a double-take. "_Oh_. Well. That's a surprise."

"It's a recent development."

"Well, good for you both. EDI, full access to the flag cabin for both Liara and Miranda."

"_Of course, Captain,_" came the voice of the AI. "_Hello, Dr. T'Soni, Ms. Lawson. It pleases me to see you both again._"

"The same to you, EDI," said Liara. Miranda only nodded in agreement.

"Well, I'm off." With no more elaboration than that, Ashley was away, moving at her usual decisive speed.

"She really is a force of nature, isn't she?" Miranda said quietly.

"She reminds me of Shepard sometimes," said Liara. "I look at her now, and I can barely remember the young soldier she was when I first met her. You humans mature so quickly."

"Some of us do. Need me for anything?"

Liara shook her head. "Go wash up and get some rest. I won't be very long. If you feel like waiting up for me, I think I could make it worth your while."

Miranda stared at her. "T'Soni, was that a _proposition_?"

"If it didn't come across clearly, I can be more emphatic."

"Right."

* * *

It felt strange, walking into _Normandy_'s flag cabin.

Once, this space had been _her_ domain.

She had been _Normandy_'s unspoken queen, holding the strings that bound the ship – and its _supposed_ captain – on behalf of the Illusive Man. In time, she had seen Cerberus for what it was, and helped to cut those strings. For a short while she had remained on board as Shepard's true XO, but then came the mission to Bahak. The Reaper invasion was delayed for six months, but only at the cost of Shepard's independence. When the Alliance arrived to claim _Normandy_, they had found Miranda long gone, not entirely trusting the amnesty she had been promised.

Then, when Shepard took command once more, Liara had taken over the space, installing a mobile command node for the Shadow Broker network. Miranda had visited only once during that terrible time, and found her old cabin _packed_ with computers, monitors, and communications gear. A bed and a tiny refresher had taken up the far end of the space, almost an afterthought. They had clearly been little used. Liara had spent her scarce moments of free time two decks up, in the captain's cabin.

Now, Miranda could see no trace of any of that.

Steven Hackett apparently preferred Spartan accommodations. The front half of the space was a small conference room, with table, chairs, an unobtrusive computer and comms gear. Behind a semi-transparent partition was the personal space: bed, footlocker, personal desk, reading chair, short couch, double-sized closet for uniforms and combat armor, a somewhat larger refresher cubicle than Miranda remembered. Everything was impeccably clean and neat, and rather anonymous. Miranda could see no sign of personality, not so much as a display case for medals or challenge coins, or a picture of family.

"_Ms. Lawson_?"

"What is it, EDI?"

"_Dr. T'Soni wished me to inform you that she has been delayed. She will be able to join you in about half an hour. In the meantime, a personal message for you has arrived in the comms queue. Shall I download it to your omni-tool, or to the cabin system?_"

Miranda suppressed a smile. The ship was being _solicitous_. "Who is the message from?"

"_From Oriana Kapoor, on Earth._"

"Thank you, EDI. I'll take it on my omni-tool."

Miranda lounged on the couch, stretching out and crossing her legs, and opened her omni-tool to read the letter. It turned out to be irrelevant to the current struggle on Thessia, if still worth reading: news of Ori's husband and sons, an amusing anecdote from the office, progress reports on a half-dozen projects. Snapshots of the slow rebuilding of a planet. Ori still seemed brilliant, and intensely focused, and quite happy with the life she had built for herself.

Miranda closed her omni-tool, and let her head rest against the back of the couch. Tired, she was tired, a catnap would be good. She closed her eyes, and began to drift.

_So far, I've wasted my life. I've spent half of it building Cerberus up, half of it tearing Cerberus back down, net effect zero. On the other hand, making sure Ori got to grow up free from the old bastard, making sure she never got entangled with Cerberus? That gave her the chance to be herself, and she's doing great things with it._

_It's the best thing I've ever done. Hopefully it will add some good karma to my account. If there is such a thing._

She dozed, thinking about Ori, and Earth.

* * *

The soft sound of the door, opening and closing, awakened her.

"Miranda?"

"In here," she called, opening her eyes and unfolding herself from the couch.

Then Liara was there, stepping close to slip an arm around Miranda's waist, her other hand sliding up Miranda's spine. She tipped her face up to be kissed. Miranda decided to oblige, and then the world went away for a moment.

Taste of warm breath and cinnamon. The slick feel of tongues pressing and sliding over one another. The intricacy of the back of an asari neck under her fingertips.

Miranda growled a little, in the back of her throat. "Please tell me," she murmured, "that Vara isn't going to appear, like a bloody Greek chorus, for _at least_ six hours."

"I told her she was off duty until we set out for Tevura," said Liara, her expression suddenly shy. "We have plenty of time to get some sleep. If that's what you want."

"I want some sleep. Yes." Miranda took a deep breath. "Later."

Liara was surprisingly aggressive. Again. Miranda was so busy exploring the feel of an asari face under her fingertips, the taste of an asari mouth under her lips, that she barely noticed when clever asari fingers found the seam of her jacket. A moment later, Miranda found herself sprawled on the couch again, shivering with delight while Liara kissed and caressed her bare breasts.

"Lights, one-third," she called out, and was obeyed. Then a sudden thought came to her, and her eyes snapped open. "EDI, are you actively monitoring this compartment?"

"Relax. I asked her to give us some privacy." Liara made a pleased sound, as she peeled Miranda's jacket back further. "You're beautiful."

"So are you," Miranda told her, and found that she meant it. "Let me see."

Liara stood up and made a small Mona Lisa smile, as she pulled her own jacket off and pushed her trousers down over her hips, tossing the discarded gear to one side. In the dim light, she was suddenly a creature of blue highlights and shadows, watching Miranda closely.

"God," Miranda muttered. "Come _here_, would you?"

It got a little involved after that.

One thing was very nice. Liara didn't seem to be in any kind of hurry. Human males tended to rush things, too focused on what they considered the main event. Asari seemed to understand the value of a deliberate and varied approach. Liara explored, compared, contrasted, like a surveyor taking the time to map every inch of an unfamiliar country. She asked questions, and whispered praise for what she found. She touched, and tasted, and breathed in the warm scents of her lover's body. She recognized Miranda's growing sense of need, cultivated it, lavished attention upon it.

Miranda became fascinated with the differences: the variety of textures in Liara's skin, the intricacies of her crest, the utter lack of hair, the subtle variations in scent and taste. The way she responded when light human fingers brushed across her nipples, or along her ribs, or down the small of her back. The subtle power of her biotic corona, as it began to show in little electric arcs around her shoulders and down her arms.

After a time, Miranda could feel something else, like a whisper in the back of her mind. A taste of desire, not unlike her own, but somehow lighter and smokier. It came from outside. From Liara.

"We're starting to be superimposed," Liara explained, when Miranda could frame a coherent question. "It becomes a feedback loop. Before the end, we'll be feeling each other's pleasure as well as our own."

"Do you want to . . ." Miranda wasn't sure how to ask the question.

Liara smiled, understanding. "Not yet. Plenty of time for that. In fact . . ."

She gave Miranda a deep, searching kiss on the mouth. Then she slid downward, kissing, trailing her tongue across sensitive skin, easing Miranda's legs apart with gentle-but-firm force.

Miranda suddenly threw her head back, closed her eyes, and felt her fingers claw at the upholstery.

_Bloody hell where did she ever learn to do _that_ . . ._

She was already prepared, all her nerve endings wide awake, so it didn't take long. She felt her own biotic corona slip free, blue-white discharges fizzing and snapping across her skin. Her torso moved, out of her control, like the surge of waves on the deep ocean. Then her mind whited out entirely.

When she became aware of the world again, Liara had moved up once more, snuggled close, her arms holding Miranda tightly.

"I love you, Miranda," she murmured. "That was for you."

Miranda moaned quietly, not feeling up to the challenge of being verbal just yet, but Liara seemed to understand. They nestled together, a tangle of limbs on the couch.

"That was awfully good," Miranda finally managed. "You're going to spoil me if you're not careful."

"I certainly intend to try. It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Hmm. The Shadow Broker doesn't know that?"

"The Shadow Broker doesn't spy on her friends."

Miranda took a deep breath, and ran fingertips down Liara's spine to make her shiver. "Yes. It's been a long time. After the war, I think I lost track of that part of life. Or maybe I just didn't think I deserved it anymore."

"I understand." Liara reared up for a warm kiss. "Thank you for being my friend, Miranda. For being willing to take a chance."

Miranda probed her feelings, searching for some knot of resistance, and found none.

_Strange. Here I am, sprawled stark naked across Admiral Hackett's couch, having just been shagged _quite_ thoroughly by the Shadow Broker, and it feels perfectly natural. Like I've found something good that I didn't even realize I needed._

Still, something nagged at her. "That wasn't the complete experience, was it?"

"No. As I said, it was for you." Liara sighed, a slight frown on her face, as if she questioned her own motives. "I didn't want to be selfish. If you want to retain the privacy of your thoughts, your memories . . ."

Miranda stopped her with another kiss. "I think we're well past that now, Liara."

"Mmm. Good."

Then the Shadow Broker _squeaked_, as Miranda swung her legs over the edge of the couch and abruptly stood . . . while swinging Liara into a bridal carry with effortless strength. Three steps, and the asari found herself dumped into the admiral's bed. Miranda followed, in a slow, predatory crawl.

"I keep forgetting how _strong_ you are," Liara said, rather breathless.

"All those genetic enhancements have to be good for something," Miranda said, and then leaned close to run her tongue along a blue collarbone.

Miranda had never made love to a woman before, or to an asari. She decided not to worry about her lack of experience. This wasn't the first time in her life that she had thrown herself into a task, armed with nothing but theory and a generous helping of self-confidence. Liara certainly didn't appear to be unhappy with the results. She seemed content to lie on her back, her eyes closed, one hand sweeping over Miranda's skin, and let her lover work.

Soon, Miranda began to sense that _overlap_ once more, her own nerves responding to what Liara's were doing. There was more urgency to it now, as if the asari had cast aside some restraint.

Liara opened her eyes, which had gone black as night. "Come here," she whispered. An image appeared in Miranda's mind, like sudden inspiration, surprisingly clear.

Miranda obeyed, moving up to kneel between Liara's legs, pressing close. There was a moment of fumbling adjustment, and then the alignment fell into place. A small gasp escaped from her throat, as pressure and friction suddenly sent sparks rushing up her spine to flare behind her eyes. The sensation of Liara's arousal surged higher.

_Feedback loop._

They moved together, as if already directed by a single mind, holding one another's hands tightly, watching each other's faces.

"_Embrace eternity_," Liara whispered.

The room blazed with blue-white light, both of their coronae surging.

Miranda's head lolled back on her neck, her eyes rolled back, and she shivered violently at the flood of new sensation. The sudden sense of another _consciousness_ overlapped with hers, a lifetime of memories and experiences slamming into her awareness.

"_Liara_," she gasped.

Liara's voice came through the link, silent but loud as trumpets: _Miranda._

_So this is what it's like to be you._

Her people still considered Liara to be very young, and sometimes that was how she behaved, but now Miranda was reminded of the truth. The asari had earned her doctorate, earned tenure as a university professor, set out on that notable scientific career, all before Miranda was even born. Since then she had seen a hundred worlds. She had fully absorbed the memories and experiences of Shepard, one of the most remarkable men in human history. She had made shallow mind-links with any number of others, learning from them. All of that was put on the table, in one timeless moment.

Wealth beyond imagination.

The last fifteen years had scarred Liara, just as they had scarred everyone who survived them. Yet beneath the anger, the loss, the carefully cultivated pose as a ruthless player for high stakes, Miranda saw an essentially gentle soul. A scientist, when all was said and done. Someone who wanted nothing more than to _know_, to _understand_, and then to bring the benefit of that understanding to others.

Miranda might still have trouble _saying_ it, but all at once she knew: she loved Liara.

Liara saw it, and was content.

_Thank you_, came a thought across their link, and then something more.

It was as if Liara held up a mirror, so Miranda could see herself.

In Liara's mind, Miranda sat on a throne, crowned and cloaked with authority. Her right hand held a naked sword upright, light shining on the blade. From her left depended an ancient set of scales. Her face was cool and impassive, but fiercely attentive as well, her eyes missing nothing.

Amid oneness, Miranda laughed.

Flickering thought, a deep exchange that took only an instant. Words only came later.

_Tarot imagery now, T'Soni?_

_It fits. All your life, you've been in pursuit of justice. Proper relationships between sentient beings, the kind that can only be attained through a clear understanding of their nature. Even your time in Cerberus was driven by your belief that humans would be denied justice by a galaxy that despised you._

_I was wrong_.

_Everyone is wrong sometimes. You're no more forgiving of yourself than you are of anyone else. You never stop trying to do better. Another reason why I love you, Miranda._

Light. Everywhere, shining through everything, light.

Miranda fell out of eternity, back into her body, shaking like a leaf in a storm. She felt Liara shivering hard too, the shared sensations almost too much to bear. Then the link broke, and she pitched forward into Liara's arms.

This time it seemed to take a long while for her to come back to herself. She became aware in small bites. Soft sheets and cooling sweat against her skin. Liara's breath warm on her throat. Fine scales under the palm of her hand. Pleasant warmth in her belly.

She found herself reviewing memories. So _many_ memories. The scientist in the back of her mind wondered just _how_ that was done. How the asari nervous system could push so much data across the link, in such a short time, and have it all make sense at its destination.

One memory, in particular, rose to the front of her mind. Possibly because Liara had been thinking about it at the critical instant. Almost as if she _wanted_ Miranda to pick it up at once.

Miranda's eyes snapped open, and she pushed partway out of Liara's embrace to stare at her. She saw calm acceptance in those cobalt-blue eyes, and no surprise at all.

"Wait a moment," she said. "Shepard is _alive_?"


	13. Revelations

_**15 Thargelia 3364 AR (21 January 2198), High Thessia Orbit**_

Miranda remembered.

The twenty-seventh day of June, 2186. Five days after the Battle of Earth.

While fleeing from the effect of the Crucible, _Normandy_ had been hurled through the mass-relay network, out of control. The ship had ended up in a then-uncharted star cluster, crash-landing on the planet that had since been named _Shepard's World_.

After making repairs, _Normandy_ had returned to space, only to find the Reapers blocking their passage through the mass relay at system's edge. Strangely _polite_ Reapers, who refused to attack _Normandy_, and even warned her crew to stand by until the mass relay could be repaired.

Then _Harbinger_ had appeared, the oldest Reaper of them all. Requesting a _personal interview_. With Liara T'Soni.

Miranda had been aboard _Normandy_ at the time, a refugee from the Battle of Earth. She had watched as Liara boarded the last surviving shuttle, going out to meet the Reaper. She had seen the asari return three hours later, apparently unharmed, but strangely silent. Liara had never told anyone what had happened to her aboard _Harbinger_.

Until now.

"Wait a moment," she said. "Shepard is _alive_?"

Liara shifted in Admiral Hackett's bed, propping herself up further against the backrest. She took one of Miranda's hands and held it, as if for comfort.

"No," she said, quietly but with calm certainty. "I've spent years thinking about it. What I encountered aboard _Harbinger_ was an _eidolon_ of Shepard, something the Intelligence that governs the Reapers created specifically for me. It didn't even claim to be Shepard himself. Only a copy of his mind. A software entity running within the Reaper matrix."

Miranda rested her head against Liara's shoulder, and reached for that cold, ruthless clarity of mind. Difficult, given that she and the asari were still in one another's embrace, as intimate as if they had been lovers for years.

"It said that the Intelligence had been reprogrammed," she said softly. "Specifically on the basis of Shepard's mind. His memories, his morals, his personality. So, _that's_ why the Reapers stood down."

"Yes. It's even possible that the Intelligence could reconstruct Shepard again, just as you did after Alchera. It must have access to technology far beyond anything Cerberus put at your disposal on Lazarus Station." Liara sighed. "I doubt it ever will, unless it decides the galaxy desperately needs him. The wishes of a few of his former friends and loved ones can't count for much on that scale."

"I imagine you're right."

"Sometimes I go out at night, and look up at the stars, and wonder. I still miss him terribly. But I don't think we're ever going to see him again."

"My _God_. Why have you kept this a secret? I'd think you would want to tell the galaxy."

"How?"

Miranda opened her mouth, then had a flood of second thoughts.

"You see the problem," Liara murmured. "The end of the Reaper War is the great mystery of our time. Everyone knows that Shepard somehow got onto the Citadel at the last moment. Everyone knows that he did _something_ to make sure the Crucible fired. Everyone knows that the Reapers, just at the point of destroying us all, simply _stopped_. That they turned around and vanished back into dark space. In all the galaxy, nobody knows _why_. Nobody but me. Until tonight."

Slowly, reluctantly, Miranda nodded. "Right. There's no way in hell you can tell people, _by the way, the spirit of my dead bondmate took possession of the Reapers and turned them into polite little lap-dogs._ Not without a whole raft of solid evidence, which you don't have. They would think you're barking mad."

"At best!" Liara chuckled ruefully. "Do you see the irony? There are a million theories out there about what happened. Some of them are even more or less correct. I still can't say anything. All I have is testimony from a thoroughly unreliable source."

"Then why let _me_ in on it?"

Liara put a hand under Miranda's chin, tipping her face up, looking into her eyes from a breath's distance away. "Because you're my friend. Because I've come to care for you a great deal. Because you, of all people, deserve to know the truth."

Those cobalt-blue eyes took on a fierce look, and Miranda suddenly could not turn away.

"Suppose it's all true," Liara continued. "Suppose that Shepard's _mind_ – his resolve, his raw courage, his compassion and integrity, all of _that_ – is what saved us all. Those are the things that _you_ worked so hard to recover, aboard Lazarus Station. _You_ were one of the ones who saved a trillion lives. _Your_ choices, your actions, made that possible. Never doubt it."

Paradoxically, it felt like a blow, a trigger for decades of self-loathing. A younger Miranda might have pushed violently away, leaping out of bed to go find her clothes and stalk away. Even after all she had been through, all she had learned, it was still difficult to stay in Liara's embrace.

The asari, of course, was still watching her, and smiling gently.

_Damn it. I knew it was a mistake, going to bed with someone who could understand me this well._

"I know," Liara said. "The first time I had an opportunity to get to know you, I thought it was strange: a woman who was so confident in her own abilities, and yet had so little regard for herself as a person."

Miranda made herself relax. The sensual pleasure of moving slightly against her lover's body, of running a hand down a broad expanse of warm skin, all of that helped. "Old story," she said after a moment. "I grew up thinking of myself as a tool for the ambitions of powerful men. They designed, built, and trained me for their purposes; first my father, then Jack Harper. I didn't frame it that way to myself, of course, but that was the truth."

Liara nodded silently, listening.

"Shepard broke me out of it. Another powerful man, but he treated me as an equal, as a partner. He respected me. _Me_. Not just for what I could do for him. It made me rethink my relationships with my father, and with Cerberus." Miranda gave Liara a moment's cocked-eyebrow glance. "Although I seem to recall a certain asari information broker who had a hand in that."

"Don't give me any credit," Liara said, amused. "Shepard was acting in accordance with his nature. _I_ was doing my best to manipulate you."

To her own surprise, Miranda chuckled. "Don't be daft. You were acting in accordance with your own nature too, Liara. You manipulated me using cold, hard, objective facts. You used the _truth_."

"I suppose I did."

"So. It took me a long time, but I learned to think about myself in a new way. Sure, I was _designed_. All my skills and abilities are there because my father put them there, because he and Cerberus drove me to train them and use them. Still. Isn't that true of everyone? We are what nature and nurture made of us. What matters is what we _do_ with that."

"Yes." Liara's arms tightened around Miranda's body, a warm embrace. "We asari find this very natural. Every asari child is born because of her mother's conscious decision. There's even a process of design, as we select traits from the child's father that we most value or desire. Then we spend decades raising the child, teaching her, giving her every opportunity to hone her abilities. Yet in the end, what matters is that the child reaches adulthood able to make her own choices, to build a life for herself."

"God, save me from asari insights."

Liara's voice took on a haughty tone, rather like a Matriarch dispensing wisdom. "Well, child, if it only took you _fifty years_ to attain this enlightenment, you have no basis for complaint . . ."

Miranda made a disgusted sound, and retaliated in the first manner that came to her. Apparently, the Shadow Broker was ticklish. After a few moments of laughing and struggling, she succumbed to a second impulse and trapped Liara's lips for a deep kiss.

The response was rather forceful. She decided to run with it.

* * *

Later, the lights turned off entirely, they lay in the admiral's bed like spoons. Miranda felt a certain pleasant exhaustion, nestled along Liara's back, one arm curled around her waist. Desire was well and truly spent, for the moment, but she still felt a ghost of the other's presence in the back of her mind. Memories and a sense of personality, comforting rather than intrusive.

"Miranda?" Quiet in the darkness, Liara's voice.

"Mmm." Miranda nuzzled the back of the asari's neck. "What is it?"

"I was wondering. If this mission succeeds, if we destroy this Cerberus outpost . . ."

"What happens next?"

"Yes. It may finally be the end of Cerberus. You'll be free of any obligation to keep chasing them down across the galaxy. Have you considered what you might do with your life, once that happens?"

"Hmm."

_Walking on egg-shells here_. _I know Liara isn't expecting some passionate declaration of life-long commitment. Not from Miranda Lawson. Still. Given that I was just inside her head, I know that this thing of ours is the first real happiness she's had in years. Small wonder if she wants it to continue._

_For that matter, if one night is any indication, it's the best thing to happen to _me_ in a long time too. She and I are a good match. I'm not used to wanting to keep a lover for very long, but I think she may be an exception._

"I must admit, I haven't thought about it very much," she said aloud. "I'll want to find some useful work to do."

Liara hesitated, then nodded decisively to herself. "I almost thought about offering you a job. But that wouldn't work, would it?"

"No." Miranda shifted slightly, to take the asari's hand and smooth the sting away. "I want to be with you, Liara, but I don't think I can be anyone's _subordinate_ anymore."

"That's all right. We've done very well as equal partners. I'd like to find some way for us to continue."

"So would I." Miranda lay quietly, fighting sleep, thinking about it. "First principles, then. What sort of thing is Miranda Lawson best suited for, aside from making the lives of Cerberus hold-outs miserable?"

"You're a superb organizer and administrator. You have a talent for intelligence analysis. You've done little original work in the sciences so far, but you are very good at directing the application of scientific research." Liara took a deep breath, as ideas fell into place. "Honestly, Miranda, what comes to mind is reconstruction work. Helping the galaxy to recover from the war."

"I've thought about it. Oriana keeps pressing me to come to Earth and join the Kapoor-Cole-Taylor team."

Liara snorted in amusement. "The Fantastic Four."

"Well, yes. I've never stopped wanting to promote humanity, after all. I just stopped believing that it had to come at the expense of everyone else. Rebuilding the homeworld, to be an even better place than it was before the war . . ."

"All right," said Liara. "Then I'll come too."

Miranda lifted her head up, to look down at the dim shape of Liara's face in the darkness. "Hold on a moment. Leave Thessia?"

"Once this is over, once the situation in Armali is resolved? Why not? If we lose, I won't have a home here anymore. If we win, it might be a good idea for the Shadow Broker to remove herself from the scene for a while. I can't permit it to appear that Matriarch Ariadne was right, that I'm only involved because I'm power-hungry."

"Are you sure? You tried that once before, and it didn't work out well."

"I know," Liara said, her voice suddenly gone bleak. "If I had stayed, if I had refused to let Matriarch Thessala and her cronies drive me away, everything might have been different."

"Then you should stay now," Miranda told her, trying to ignore a sudden pang at the thought of leaving her behind.

"The situation isn't the same. I have more resources than I did then. I can leave representatives here, to keep an eye on things, and facilitate help from the Shadow Broker if the new government asks for any. Vara would be a good choice. She can stay with Erato, who will probably be elected to the board of _archons_ if we win."

Miranda nodded, remembering something else she had seen in Liara's memories.

_Vara has feelings for Liara too. She has for a long time, but so far Liara hasn't returned them. Maybe staying with Erato for a while, with Liara off stage, would be good for her._

"As for the Shadow Broker, I can run the network just as effectively from the Citadel as from here. Perhaps more effectively."

Miranda closed her eyes and thought about it. Working on Earth, helping to rebuild human lives and human capabilities. Seeing her sister, her brother-in-law, and her nephews on a regular basis, not to mention Jacob and Brynn and their children. At last, a family worth having.

Liara close by: collaborator, partner, lover. Maybe they could even live together, on the Citadel. Miranda wasn't sure if she would be any good at domesticity, but it might be worth the attempt.

"That would be very fine," she said, hating how banal it sounded.

Liara heard the undertones, though, and knew how much had gone unsaid. "Then it's a deal."

* * *

They might have had six hours of sleep, before _Three Banners_ arrived. Instead, what with making love like newlyweds, long pillow talk, and having to share a rather small refresher, they ended up with about three.

Fortunately, Miranda had coffee. Liara had to just tough it out. She certainly seemed bright-eyed and ready enough, when all the principals gathered around the central display "tank" in _Normandy_'s war room.

"_Cannae_ is in stealth mode, in high Kerotis orbit," she said, calling up a schematic view of the distant moon and its immediate neighborhood. "Cerberus was quite clever, to place an outpost there. Without active sensors, it's almost impossible to spot. Until, of course, there's a break in the high-altitude haze."

A wire-frame globe of Kerotis appeared, then zoomed in on a region near the moon's equator. Then came imagery, based on visible-light and near-infrared instruments aboard _Cannae_. The viewing was poor – there was still _some_ haze – but Miranda could still see a suspiciously regular set of surface features, located close to the shore of a hydrocarbon sea.

Liara continued, using her cool, calm lecture-voice. "Captain Mkapa's assessment is that this station resembles pre-war Cerberus bases on Binthu or Nepheron. An extensive facility, placed on a remote world in a very hostile environment, using obscurity and stealth rather than heavy armament for protection. Ms. Lawson suggests that the location will also have the effect of isolating any Cerberus personnel assigned there. This aids in maintaining discipline."

Miranda nodded. "The flow of information from the outside is kept under strict control. And if anyone steps out of line, they can always be sent out onto the surface. Without an environment suit."

Ashley gave Miranda a short glare. "Charming people. Did _you_ ever use that leadership technique?"

"I never needed to," Miranda said coldly. "I should point out that Cerberus ran out of _competent_ leadership years ago. Whoever is in command of this facility is likely brutal, violent, and driven by Cerberus ideology. A bloody-minded fanatic."

"So noted."

"Now, I wish to call your attention to the physical environment," Liara continued. "The surface of Kerotis is dominated by water ice. In the normal temperature range for that environment, water takes on the geological functions of a mineral. The problem for Cerberus is that their facility generates a great deal of heat. Any portion of their facility that is in contact with the ground must be _extremely_ well insulated, or they risk melting the surface out from beneath themselves. They must vent almost all of their waste heat into the nearby ethane-methane sea."

"They're vulnerable," Ashley concluded, with a predatory look in her eye.

"Extremely so. If we can get close enough to identify their heat-transfer equipment, we can render the entire facility uninhabitable with a well-placed kinetic strike."

"But you want to infiltrate the place first."

"If possible. Our assessment is that this one facility represents the bulk of all remaining Cerberus resources. If we can data-mine it, that may be the key to ending Cerberus as a coherent organization. That requires that we tap into their computer core before they have a chance to wipe its memory."

"This is all sounding horribly familiar," said Miranda.

Ashley cocked an ironic eyebrow at her. "I was wondering when you would notice. Remember the day Shepard infiltrated the Cerberus facility on Binthu?"

"How could I forget? You lot nearly got me killed, when you remotely opened all the cages and let a pack of rachni warriors out into the lab space."

"Hopefully this facility isn't doing anything quite _that_ dangerous."

Miranda shook her head. "I don't think we can assume this is just a logistical base, channeling Cerberus support to the Black Hand and the asari reactionaries. They wouldn't need anything this big, if that was all there was to it."

Ashley frowned.

"Do you think they're performing some kind of dangerous experiments here?" Liara asked. "The data don't indicate that."

"The data are very spotty, Liara, and you know it." Miranda stared at the image in the tank, trying to chase down an uneasy sensation in the back of her mind. "It's just intuition, but I can't shake it. They're up to something."

"All right," Ashley said, in her _take-charge_ voice. "I suggest a reconnaissance-in-force. _Normandy_ puts a heavy squad on the surface in heavy protective gear. Joint operation, Alliance Marines and the Shadow Broker's commandos, including tech specialists. We move in from a distance, blind any sensors around our infiltration point, and break in. Once we're inside, we improvise based on the layout of the facility."

_Just like Shepard would have done_, Miranda thought. _Let's hope she can carry it off._


	14. Battle on the Ice

_**15 Thargelia 3364 AR (21 January 2198), Tevura Space**_

_Normandy_ came in low to Kerotis, just beyond the horizon from the Cerberus installation. At the last instant, EDI opened the staging bay hatch and ejected two vehicles.

"I didn't think the Alliance still used the M-35 for combat deployment," Miranda observed, from her seat in the front. She checked her armor for vacuum integrity, for the fifteenth time.

Ashley's eyes never left her controls. "Hey, the Mako's a _great_ vehicle."

"I'm glad _some_ of us have fond memories of it," came Liara's voice from behind them.

Ashley chuckled, and then became serious, as she fired the thrusters and came in for a smooth landing. Miranda heard a soft _crunch_, tires engaging with the dark water-hydrocarbon ice of the surface. "Guns, report."

Miranda checked her controls. "Main gun and coaxial cannon report ready."

"EWS?"

"All systems show green," Liara reported. "ECM online. Kinetic barriers at full power. Detection grid shows no active sensors on us yet."

"You good to go back there, Vara?"

There was a small _click_ as the commando checked her weapon. "Always."

"Good." Ashley keyed her comms. "Rogue Leader to Rogue Bravo. Report."

"_Green, Skipper,_" came a female voice from the other Mako.

"All right. Let's dance."

Their Mako zoomed forward, bouncing across the reddish-brown surface. Miranda soon found the ride almost tolerable. Ashley applied the mass-effect core with considerable skill, keeping the vehicle light enough to skim along at high speed close to the ground, but heavy enough that the occasional lump of rock-like ice didn't send it bouncing up into the air. Puddles of liquid hydrocarbons splashed under the Mako's tires, and sent up great fans of liquid that seemed to hover behind them in the low gravity. Once a deep fissure appeared just ahead, and Ashley sent them soaring over it with an economical tap of the thrusters.

Miranda glanced at the external view and found it almost useless, between the dimness of Parnitha-light, the haziness of the atmosphere, and the constant faint rain of organic material from above. The instruments did a better job of keeping her aware of the surroundings.

"Active sensors ahead," said Liara. A spray of icons appeared on Ashley's HUD. "Very low level, well below the detection threshold. I don't think they suspect we're here."

"Still trying to lie low," Ashley concluded, dodging around a large boulder. "They may have gotten some sign of _Normandy_, or one of your ships, up in orbit. They're hunkering down until we're gone."

"Too late," Vara observed, satisfaction in her voice.

"Last terrain feature coming up," said Miranda. "That skewed hill at two o'clock. We'll be in line-of-sight once you pass that."

"I detect four weapons emplacements with active sensors." Liara shifted in her seat, fingers flickering across her console. "Recommend the following priority list. I'm ready to begin the remote hack as soon as I have direct contact with the facility's external grid."

Ashley nodded. "Got it. How's your aim, Miranda?"

Miranda bared her teeth. "Perfect."

"Show me."

The Mako zoomed up over the last ridge, and Miranda could see regular shapes lurking in the haze up ahead. Icons flared red on her display, marking radar sources gone live. She threw herself into a _wu wei_ state, not thinking, deciding, or acting, simply _being_.

The turret above their heads traversed. _Boom. Boom._ One radar source went offline. Then another.

"Sniper nest at eleven o'clock," Liara snapped.

"On it," Miranda told them, rearranging her targeting priority on the fly even as she wondered what good a _sniper nest_ would do in this hellish environment. Then the coaxial cannon fired, like God tearing a sheet of canvas the size of a world.

The other Mako roared into the battle, turning left to go after the most distant weapon emplacement.

"Kinetic barriers down to eighty percent," said Liara, her voice utterly calm.

Miranda slewed the turret hard to the right, tapping her console three times.

_Boom. Boom. Boom_. Then the coaxial gun fired again.

"Atlas mechs!"

"_We see them, Rogue Leader. Engaging._"

"How that hack going?" Ashley demanded.

"Almost there . . ."

Still like a calm lake, Liara's voice. Miranda recalled the asari's memories of her first combat engagements under Shepard's command. The terror and uncertainty, the determination to perform well.

_She's a veteran now. Well, so are all of us._

_Boom_. The last weapon emplacement went down. Miranda looked around for more enemies, and found none.

"_All targets down_," reported the other vehicle.

Ashley nodded in satisfaction. "Good job, all."

"I have access," said Liara. Miranda could hear her fingers tapping on her console with frenetic speed. "Jericho Protocol has been locked down. Cerberus will not be able to physically destroy the facility or its computer core."

"External sensors?"

"Also down. They can probably deduce which direction we came from, but they can't see us now."

Ashley nodded, and called up a schematic view of the facility in her HUD. "Miranda, what's your best guess as to what we're looking at?"

Miranda studied the schematic, and began placing tags and markers on it. "Heat transfer equipment has to be _here_. Fusion power plant should be close by, so that's probably what _this_ structure is. If they're following typical Cerberus organization . . . command center here, living quarters, life support, armory."

Ashley pointed at a large structure, about a quarter of the way around the perimeter from their current location. "What about this?"

"I can't be sure. It doesn't fit the usual profile. Which suggests that if Cerberus _is_ running some kind of rogue scientific operation here . . ."

"It would hardly be Cerberus if they weren't."

Miranda snorted. "Point taken. I'll wager it's in here. It's big, whatever it is."

"Okay." Ashley pulled up more sensor data, then nodded to herself. "Rogue Bravo, you're the feint. Attack at grid Twelve-Sierra, make lots of noise but watch your six and don't get cut off. Once you have their undivided attention, break off and then keep them bottled up behind you. We're going in as soon as you light them up."

"_Roger that, Rogue Leader. We're off._"

Miranda glanced over her shoulder, to see Liara's worried frown.

_Nerylla and Tania are going in with Rogue Bravo. Liara argued for it, over their objections. Both teams need asari presence. They weren't happy with letting their principal go in harm's way with only one acolyte for protection._

_Well, she has me too. Not to mention a Spectre taking point._

"They'll be all right," Miranda said aloud. Liara gave her a moment's grateful smile.

Ashley broke in. "All right, everyone, suit integrity check."

"Clear." "Clear." "Clear."

"Clear. Initiating the air scrub." Ashley firmly pressed a red control on her console.

The Mako filled with the sound of rushing wind. Miranda glanced at the life-support readouts, saw the oxygen level of the air falling to zero. Within seconds, the four of them were sitting in a pure-nitrogen atmosphere at about twice standard pressure.

_Not a good idea to eject a bunch of free oxygen out into an atmosphere that's almost two percent hydrogen and methane._

"I'm popping the hatch," said Vara. There was a deep _clunk_, and then she left her seat to emerge onto the surface of Kerotis. Liara followed, then Miranda, then Ashley last of all.

There was a constant sound of moaning wind, surprisingly loud, the atmosphere somewhat denser than humans were accustomed to. Miranda could feel it, trying to push her off-balance.

All around was darkness, like a cloudy winter's day just before sunset. Ground haze cut visibility to less than a kilometer. Everything was in sepia tones, a landscape of dull reds and browns. Even the walls of the Cerberus facility were dirty and tarnished-looking. The surroundings looked like a stone-field, such as Miranda had seen in many desolate places on Earth. She had to remind herself that she was standing on ice. Every feature around her was ice, every "boulder," every "stone," even the fine "sand" that blew in the wind. There might not be an actual _stone_ resting on the surface for kilometers in any direction.

In this place, she was like a woman made of living magma. She had the sudden urge to check her feet. Fortunately, the insulation in her combat suit seemed to be working.

"Come on," said Ashley, and it felt strange to hear her without the mediation of the radio comms.

The four of them walked across the short distance to the airlock that Ashley had selected. Their footsteps crunched loudly on the ground, the surface some sort of brittle crust over a thin layer of fluffy material. Off in the distance, they could hear cannon fire and loud explosions. Rogue Bravo was making their demonstration against a different part of the perimeter.

Liara reached the airlock first, and worked with her omni-tool for a moment. "Airlock sensors are cut off. Security codes . . . bypassed. Here we go."

The door opened. The four of them crowded in, weapons at the ready. There was a blast of hot air first, to melt and scatter any ice clinging to their armor. Then the inner door opened.

Ashley and Vara stepped out first, covering their quarters.

The sounds of Rogue Bravo's fight sounded different, carried through the walls and floor. Otherwise, there was silence and stillness. They stood in a narrow corridor that led straight ahead. Miranda could see traces of oil and grime on the floor, and the walls looked dingy and worn. She shook her head in distaste.

_Cerberus was a lot neater when I was in charge._

It was rather surprising, how quietly Ashley could move in full combat armor. She led them down the corridor, then held up a closed fist to stop them at a closed hatch. When the hatch opened, it revealed a wider corridor leading to the left and right. They emerged out into the new avenue, Ashley and Vara to the left, Miranda and Liara to the right, weapons and biotics at the ready.

Still no sign of any Cerberus personnel.

_Where is everyone? Is this place under-manned?_

Liara pointed to words stenciled on the corridor wall: _HUMAN RESOURCES_, with an arrow pointing to the left. Miranda consulted her sense of direction, and nodded.

They continued: through storage compartments, a workshop area, a space fitted out for lab work but apparently never used. Every space showed signs of disorder and neglect. Miranda's sense of unease grew.

_This makes no sense. Why would Cerberus spend what might be its last credit on a facility like this, and then leave it almost empty?_

A larger space, deliberately left empty, some manner of staging area. Big double doors, three meters tall. _HUMAN RESOURCES_.

"At this point," Ashley observed quietly, "I am expecting _anything_ to be behind that door. You ladies ready?"

They fanned out to form a line, parallel to the door, ready to lay down a killing field. Liara opened her omni-tool and tapped a three-keystroke sequence.

The door opened. Nothing else happened.

They emerged into a large compartment, like an enormous warehouse, stacked floor to ceiling with long, narrow containers. Rack upon rack, row upon row, extending away from them for perhaps fifty meters. All was silent.

"There!" Liara called, pointing to a control center about twenty meters away. On a raised platform, several permanent consoles made a semi-circular arc around a single seat. They could all see light moving on the consoles, signs of systems up and running.

"That certainly _looks_ like it might be an access point for the privileged network," said Vara.

"Wait a moment," Miranda interjected. Then she stopped, uncertain.

"What is it?" Liara asked.

"This isn't right. It smells like a trap." Miranda glanced around them. "What's _in_ these containers?"

Liara frowned. She opened her omni-tool and probed the nearest rack with its sensors. "I can't tell. Something's blocking the scan."

Just then, the comm channel hissed into life. "_Rogue Leader . . ."_

Ashley raised a hand to the side of her helmet. "I copy, Rogue Bravo. What's your status?"

Nothing but a sudden burst of vicious static.

"They're not making as much noise," Vara pointed out, staring up at the distant ceiling as she listened. It was true, now that Miranda paid attention. The sounds of cannon fire and small-arms fire, echoing through the corridors, had declined considerably.

"We should withdraw," said Liara.

Ashley gave her a hard glare. "You sure about that? We're not going to get a second chance at this."

"What's the old human saying? _Nuke it from orbit, it's the only way to be sure._" Liara shrugged. "I can verify later whether there's anything left of Cerberus worth worrying about."

Then it was much too late. The double doors behind them slammed shut. The lights went out, forcing them to activate their helmet and weapon lamps.

"_Well, this is a pleasant surprise,_" came a voice, over a loudspeaker. Human, feminine, but oddly distorted. Miranda frowned, _almost_ recognizing it.

Vara slammed her shoulder against the closed doors. Liara, more pragmatic, used her omni-tool to try to force them open once more. She caught Miranda's eyes, and shook her head.

"_I might have known that the Shadow Broker would come. I'm doing the good work in her own back yard, after all. But that she would bring Miranda Lawson with her? An unexpected pleasure. Two out of the three Judases who betrayed Cerberus, right where I want them. Too bad Shepard's already dead, so I can't capture the whole trinity. Although taking Shepard's protégé, the second human Spectre, will certainly answer the mail._"

Somewhere out in the darkness, they heard machinery in motion. Miranda swept her weapon light from side to side, but she couldn't see what was happening. Then _something_ flickered across her light and was gone.

"Who _is_ that?" Ashley hissed, her rifle up so she could use the sight.

"I'm not sure. I keep thinking I should recognize her voice . . ."

"_And so you should, Miranda. There was a time when we worked together almost every day._ _Then you stabbed the Illusive Man in the back. Whereas I never questioned him. I always did as he asked. I stayed loyal to him to the bitter end._"

Suddenly, Miranda _knew_. "My God. _Jana_?"

Liara shook her head violently, easing closer to put herself back-to-back with the others. "Jana Cartwright is dead. She was on Cronos Station when the Alliance attacked the place, and she didn't get out alive."

"_Come now, Dr. T'Soni. Given the technology available to Cerberus, death is hardly an absolute._" The voice paused for a moment, and then went on, full of cruel satisfaction. "_As all of you are about to discover._"

"Really _do not_ like the sound of that," Ashley muttered.

Then the flickering movement beyond the reach of their lights resolved itself. Humanlike figures, slowly moving across the floor toward them, from all sides. More of them climbed over the racks of containers, like enormous spiders. They advanced in eerie silence.

_Husks_. Hundreds of them. Not all of them built on the human model. Miranda could see many of them with coloring more slate-blue than coal-black, with ravaged feminine shapes and asari crests.

_It's the technology from Sanctuary_, she realized. _And that means . . ._

From somewhere out in the space, a terrible wailing scream sounded. Blue-white light ignited in the darkness, a corona around a tall, distorted shape that might once have been asari.

"Well, doesn't _that_ just take the prize," Vara said in disgust.

On a soundless signal, the horde attacked.


	15. Last Stand

_**15 Thargelia 3364 AR (21 January 2198), Cerberus Facility/Kerotis**_

A great many things happened very quickly.

Liara and Miranda slammed a biotic bubble into place, coordinating as if they had practiced together for years. Then they began flinging warps and handgun fire at targets of opportunity. Vara drew her sword and made a wide cutting motion, producing an intense wave of force to lash at the enemy. Ashley had no biotics, but her rifle began to snarl, tearing apart husks by the handful.

It wasn't enough.

Too many husks. The battlefield gave them a chance to stay under cover until they were ready to pounce. They were climbing the racks on either side, and _dropping_ on the team.

An observer might have seen the blue-white light of biotic discharges, the white bursts of gunfire, slowly pressed back by a tide of black, and then entirely overwhelmed.

Then . . .

_Flash._

An eruption of light, electric white, like the first nanoseconds of a nuclear blast.

Husks flew in all directions. Then, in the space they had abruptly vacated, four women remained. Vara, hunched around the pain of a sudden snapped rib, her sword gripped tightly in her hand. Ashley, snarling, driven to one knee, still firing at anything that moved. Liara and Miranda standing, Liara's right hand in Miranda's left, their other hands flung outward to generate that _enormous_ biotic surge.

A rather startled expression was on Liara's face, as if she hadn't expected such a dramatic result. "I have an idea," she gasped.

"I'm – open to – suggestions," said Ashley through gritted teeth, between bursts of gunfire.

"The control console. Come on!"

Then Liara was off, her corona blazing like a star, hurling husks to all sides as she struggled through the crowd. Miranda lunged to follow, while Ashley and Vara fought side by side as a rear guard.

Moving _further_ into that mass of death seemed like a bad idea, but Miranda soon saw an advantage to it. For one thing, there were no racks of containers close to the control console. As soon as they reached it, the ghastly rain of groaning husks from above stopped. She could feel the reduction in pressure against her barriers.

A husk got through, clawing at her face, nearly tearing her visor off her helmet. Three shots at point-blank range discouraged that one.

A wailing screech. The banshee's corona ignited, and it began a series of flash-steps to cut them off from their target.

Ashley couldn't react, engaged in holding a score of husks at bay with gunfire. Liara and Miranda peppered the banshee with their own small-arms fire, but it shrugged them off as irrelevant.

Then Vara found herself free for an instant. She swung around, a surge of medi-gel covering the pain of her injury, and lashed at the thing with her sword. One wave of force hammered at it, then another.

It recoiled.

Then Vara sprinted forward, her corona suddenly bright with power. She leaped up, planting one boot on the top of the control console to push her soaring into the air.

The banshee howled at her, a sound to split skulls and send the bravest soldiers cowering in terror. Then it brought one vicious claw around, ready to tear out Vara's guts.

Somehow, in mid-air, the commando _evaded_ the thing's swipe. Her sword swung once again, too fast to see.

The banshee's corona went down, a fraction of a second before Vara's blade cleanly lopped its head off.

Vara made a perfect three-point landing, sword at full extension behind her.

_All right_, Miranda admitted, _that was rather impressive_.

"Miranda, I need help," Liara gasped, mounting the central dais and looking down at the control console.

Miranda nodded. "Anything."

"I'm not going to be able to concentrate on my share of the biotic barrier, and hack through these systems, at the same time. Take my hand."

Miranda obeyed, part of her mind listening to Ashley and Vara as they defended the console.

Liara looked up, her eyes gone black as night, holding Miranda's gaze through their helmet visors. "Now. _Embrace eternity._"

Just like that, Miranda felt Liara's consciousness _crash_ into her own. It wasn't a gentle thing, prefaced by slow intimacy. The asari was in deep combat mode, all icy concentration over a carefully buried current of raw fear.

_Manage my biotics, as well as your own._

For one of the few times in her life, Miranda felt uncertain. She knew the biotic disciplines, knew her own biotic potentials, as well as any human alive. She was one of the first humans ever to develop biotic potential, and she had received the best of training and implant technology. Still, even with Liara's memories to call on, what the asari suggested was utterly outside her experience.

_You can do it, Miranda. It's the only way._

Then Miranda saw what Liara planned. For an instant, she was caught between admiration for the audacity of it, and sheer terror at the possibility that it might _work_. Then she threw caution to the winds, and sent agreement across the link.

Liara immediately turned away, to focus on her omni-tool and the console.

Miranda stood behind her, eyes closed, both hands resting on Liara's shoulders. Their minds remained linked, awareness shared, and it made both of their tasks easier. Liara could concentrate on breaking the Cerberus network's security, imposing her will on the machine. Miranda could call on both of their biotic potentials, erecting a powerful bubble to protect the whole team, sending warps and singularities out into the darkness. They could even help one another with a flicker of thought, suggestions and encouragement flying across the link.

It was difficult, performing so many biotic feats without a single control gesture, without even looking at the targets. Still, Liara had done it before, first against Tela Vasir, and then in any number of other tense situations. She showed the way, a display of biotic mastery that awed her human partner.

So, while the tempest still raged around them, while Ashley and Vara continued to push themselves beyond the limits of mortal endurance, Miranda and Liara held the calm center. The eye of the storm.

It seemed to take forever, but it might have been about a minute before Liara spoke. "All of you, give me a link to your helmet cameras and omni-tools."

Miranda simply opened her eyes and tapped at her omni-tool for a moment. Vara did the same, accustomed to obedience. Ashley was more skeptical. "What good will that do?"

"Trust us," said Miranda.

Ashley swore, but she took an instant to open her omni-tool.

Liara began to pull down gigabytes of data: imagery, audio, sensor readings, medical readouts from their armor. Everything that had happened to them in the past hour or more, and then a live feed. All of it went to the console, to the Cerberus communications network, and then _out_.

"_What is this_?" demanded the enemy's voice, speaking for the first time since the combat had begun.

The pressure let up for a moment, as if the enemy hesitated in confusion.

Liara ignored it, putting the finishing touches on her work. Then Miranda sensed the sudden severance of their link, leaving her gasping and feeling unaccountably lonely in her own head. Liara took over maintenance of the biotic barrier around them, without a break.

"What did you do?" Ashley asked, her rifle silent for the moment.

"It's very simple," Liara said, closing her omni-tool. "I've posted all of our records to the extranet."

"_What_?"

Vara nodded slowly, wiping a weary hand across her visor. "No matter what happens to us, the galaxy knows there's a Cerberus installation here. Dabbling with Reaper tech. Making husks out of humans and asari. When people see _this_ down on Thessia, the reactionaries are finished. They'll be lucky to get off the planet alive."

Miranda caught Liara's eye, and saw her smile.

_Well, yes, that's _part_ of what might happen._

"_Do you think this will save you?"_ Jana's voice demanded. "_By the time anyone gets here, Alliance or asari, there won't be anything left of you but more husks for them to slaughter!_"

"Oh, _great_." Ashley sounded more weary than angry.

The battle resumed.

After a time, Miranda began to wonder where Jana Cartwright was _getting_ all of these husks. She had lost count after the first fifty or so they had destroyed. At least she could now guess where the Cerberus personnel who had built and manned the base had gone. As for the asari victims, well, the Black Hand had control of at least one asari _polis_, and doubtless needed some way to rid themselves of dissidents.

_At least she only had the one banshee. Not too many _ardat-yakshi_ among the asari victims, it seems._

Miranda fought, back to back with the others. The husks continued to attack, frenzied now, as if their guiding intelligence had gone mad with a desire for revenge.

Four husks hit Ashley at the same moment, knocking her rifle out of her hands and bearing her to the floor. She came up a moment later, fighting with her fists and feet, looking as if she was ready to sink her teeth into an enemy's throat if nothing else would serve. Liara bought the Spectre a moment's grace with a warp, and Miranda recovered her weapon, all without a pause.

Vara was growing weary, she had to be, but she didn't seem to be slowing down at all. Her sword, and the biotic force she had learned to channel through it, proved a devastating weapon against Reaper foot-soldiers. She whirled and struck, dancing like Kali on the corpses of the slain.

Miranda and Liara fought back to back. For the most part, they tended the barrier that slowed the enemy's advance, and fell into a rhythm: Liara would place a singularity in the middle of a mass of husks, then Miranda would detonate it with a warp. The whole room echoed to the sound of explosions, one every few seconds, as fast as Liara could place the singularities. Their sidearms were almost a distraction, an extra morsel of destructive power when their biotics had to lapse into a rest state.

It wasn't enough. Against an unlimited supply of Reaper creatures, it could never be enough. Sooner or later one of them would stumble, and fall, and be torn apart. Then the rest, in short order. It was the last moments of the Battle of London all over again, with no way to strike the creatures at their source.

"At least we're taking an honor guard with us to Valhalla," Ashley panted, in a brief lull between waves.

"Couldn't ask for better company," Vara said, smiling grimly at the rest of them.

"Don't give up yet," Liara told them.

Ashley gave her a weary glance. "Why? Do you know something?"

"She _always_ knows something," Miranda concluded.

A new flood of husks came into the room from elsewhere in the facility, and they had no more time to talk.

In the last few moments, Liara eyes caught Miranda's, and something in them drove her to do something she had never done before in her life.

_I love you_, she breathed, so Liara could read it on her lips.

The asari smiled, a gesture of warm happiness on the edge of destruction.

Then the _noise_ came, and everything stopped.

It sounded like a huge horn, blasting away in the bitter air outside, deafening, rattling the walls and floor.

Ashley stared up at the ceiling, her eyes as wide as Miranda had ever seen them. "Is that . . ."

It came again, sounding even closer. Not God's instrument, for all of its mind-shattering volume. The devil's, maybe.

Every husk in the room simply dropped dead.

In the sudden silence, Liara stepped up to the console and pressed a control. "This is Liara T'Soni," she said to the Cerberus systems. "Please state your intentions."

The response came at once, a basso-profundo voice, coming over their own helmet comms as well as the Cerberus channel. "**The harvest has been terminated.** **We are non-hostile. Our present directives are to deal with the abuse of technology stolen from us. Please do not interfere.**"

"We have no intention of interfering. However, our mission requires us to recover certain information from this facility, information that is not relevant to the stolen technology. Will you grant us one standard hour to complete our task?"

"**You may have one hour. Please advise us if you require more time.**"

"Thank you."

Ashley stared at her. "You knew. You _knew_ the Reapers would come."

Liara nodded slowly. "Say, rather, that I hoped they might."

"_How_?"

The asari caught Miranda's eye, a knowing look, full of secrets that they shared. "Well. They were quite meticulous about cleaning up after themselves, after the war. I thought they might be interested in this last piece of Cerberus, still trying to apply the technology from Sanctuary. So I posted everything we had to the extranet. _Everyone_ reads the extranet."

* * *

They found Jana Cartwright in the computer core. Quite literally. Once she had been a healthy woman, vital and alive. Now she was a _thing_, her body invaded and corrupted, embedded into the computer core like a malignant parasite. Her arms and legs were gone, replaced by circuitry and life-support connections. Her skin had cracked and peeled across most of her face and torso, exposing the ghastly blue glow of Reaper machinery. She still breathed, her eyes still stared out at the world, but she was no more responsive than a sponge.

"Indoctrination effect, very intense, at close range," Miranda concluded, after she performed a physical examination of the remains. "Her mind is gone. That must have been how the Reapers overrode her control signal for the husks. Although I imagine she was well on her way even without their intervention."

"The tool she tried to build turned in her hand," Liara observed, still working with her omni-tool to pull data out of core storage. "Just like every other radically dangerous experiment Cerberus ever carried out. That story should be an object lesson for the entire galaxy for the next thousand years: some short-cuts to power come with far too high a price."

"Amen."

Liara sighed, looking pensive as she worked. "I'm still wondering how she got off Cronos Station. My network never found any evidence that she was still active, not since the war."

"She was always brilliant and talented," said Miranda. "Maybe when the Illusive Man finally ordered her to implant him, she saw what might happen. Laid plans to escape with the technology, left behind a cloned corpse to fool the Alliance's forensics teams. Does it matter?"

"Only in the sense that I appreciate tying up loose ends." Liara checked her omni-tool, and nodded to herself. "It's all here, Miranda. Financial transfers, shipments of weapons, all directed to the Black Hand and to certain powerful asari. Black Hand leaders came here for consultation more than once. Once we publish all of this, it's _over_. Dissidents and democrats will drive the reactionaries out of power. Not just in Armali, but all over Thessia."

"And Cerberus?"

"I'll have to do some deep analysis . . . but yes. I already know what the answer will be. Cerberus is _finished_." The Shadow Broker gave Miranda a look of quiet, but very deep, satisfaction. "You and I are both going to be free to follow our hearts, it seems. For the first time in twelve years."

"A lot longer than that, for me." Combat armor was an obstacle to the kind of embrace Miranda found that she wanted. She settled for reaching out and putting a hand on Liara's shoulder. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_, Miranda. For everything." Liara took a deep breath. "Come on. Let's go home."

* * *

They left the computer core, and walked with Ashley and Vara through the empty corridors of the last Cerberus base, and then out onto the bleak surface of Kerotis.

Miranda paused for a moment, looking up at the three _Sovereign_-class Reapers that stood silently around the place, waiting for a signal. She stared at the nearest one, and wondered.

_If I called out to Shepard now, would he answer?_

It stood there, only partially visible in the murk, the upper portions of its body vanishing entirely. A presence more felt than seen, black, alien, motionless and silent.

_Liara was right. Whatever governs that thing, it's not truly Shepard anymore. It can't be._

Still, she succumbed to a perverse impulse, and waved to it. Then she turned to follow the others.

Soon, two Makos rolled across the landscape, seeking an extraction zone where _Normandy_ could safely recover them.

As soon as they were clear, the Reapers behind them began using their main cannon to take the Cerberus facility apart. They did not finish until they had dug a crater in the ice, a kilometer across and five hundred meters deep, and nothing large enough to see was left. Then they departed, sending no further communication to _Normandy_ or the Shadow Broker ships, vanishing at speed out into the eternal night.

Miranda lived for another two hundred years, and she never saw any of the Reapers again.


	16. Seclusion

_**21 Thargelia 3364 AR (28 January 2198), Kandros Mountains/Thessia**_

"You know, I've always thought of asari as being basically rational creatures," said Miranda. "It does my heart good to see you can be just as _stupid_ as we humans."

Liara only smiled.

The two of them lay out on matched deck chairs, basking in warm sunlight and nursing cool drinks. Liara was nude except for a pair of wraparound sunglasses, while Miranda wore a crimson two-piece bathing suit. They rested on a broad wooden deck, built at the side of a large cabin. All around them stood an awe-inspiring vista of snow-capped mountains and alpine meadows, with hardly a sign of civilization to be seen.

They were still connected to the extranet, of course. Even on retreat, the Shadow Broker never took a vacation from the flow of data through the galaxy.

Miranda took a sip of her _tsikoudia_, enjoying its bite, and continued her lecture. "I mean, _seriously_. We produce conclusive evidence that the reactionaries' policies were indirectly responsible for the Reaper War. Evidence that they were still collaborating with Cerberus. That they were hiring bloody-handed mercenaries to suppress dissidents. Even that they were shipping asari off to be turned into _husks_. How is this election even _close_?"

"Asari are never unanimous about anything, Miranda." Liara shrugged, a gesture of supreme indifference. "Some asari vote for the same cabal of Matriarchs their lineage has always supported. Some asari think everything anyone says about politics is a lie, so they simply vote for whoever appeals to their prejudices. Some asari _like_ the idea of having the Matriarchs grind people under their heels, so long as they can be confident it's _other_ people who will be harmed. And some asari refuse to do any research or make up their minds until they open their ballot, and then they pick a position or a candidate more or less at random."

"Just like humans, in other words."

"Exactly like humans." Liara sighed. "Also, some asari fear and hate _me_, personally, so they will vote against whatever position they think I favor. Which is one reason why I originally wanted to stay aloof from this dispute."

"If it weren't for you, asari would be _extinct_ right now."

"They don't know that. Or believe it. Or care. After all, I'm still the daughter of Benezia, the great traitor. Not to mention, in the process of helping to stop the Reapers, I broke more customs and traditions than any asari maiden has in a thousand years. And just this week, I called the _Reapers_ back into asari space, even if it was just for a few hours. If I live to be a Matriarch myself, there will be many asari who will _never_ trust me."

Miranda said nothing, but the expression on her face was eloquent.

"So, no, Miranda, asari aren't any more rational than humans, as political creatures. Democracy seems to fit our psychology a little better than the authoritarian feudalism you seem to favor. That doesn't mean we're all that _good_ at it. Before the Reapers came, we had a structure of ancient traditions and customs that kept our worst insanities in check. Habits of political action, going back to the day when we scratched our votes on potsherds. The Reapers smashed all that, so now we have to build it anew."

Miranda picked up her omni-tool and checked the vote tallies out of Armali again. According to exit polls, Erato's reformist alliance was about six percentage points ahead . . . but there were hours left before the polls closed, and it wasn't clear how most of the rural districts were going to fall.

"Assuming you get the chance," she muttered. "Bloody hell, if Ariadne hadn't abruptly resigned her position and gone into voluntary exile, she would probably be _winning_ this thing right now."

"Miranda." Liara's voice, full of mock disapproval. "Put that thing down. We are here to _relax._"

"Dr. T'Soni's advice is good, child. As usual." A cool voice, this one, coming from behind Miranda's shoulder.

Matriarch Trellani Keldaris stepped out between them, taking a seat where she could see both of her young guests. As always, Miranda was struck by the older asari's sheer force of personality. Even sitting quietly in her own home, dressed in casual clothes, Trellani often seemed more than simply mortal.

_Round face with full lips, a spray of white dapples, startling blue eyes, voluptuous figure, dirt under her fingernails from gardening. A minor fertility deity, maybe._

"You have done all that could be done," said the Matriarch. "You must leave it in the hands of the people, and have faith."

"I've never been very good at _faith_, Trellani."

"It doesn't matter, Miranda." Liara shifted on her deck chair, rolled to one side and took off her sunglasses so she could look her lover in the face. "There's an absolute bedrock principle underlying asari democracy: _the people are sovereign_. That means that in the end, the citizens of a _polis_ must be permitted to govern themselves, to keep political authority in their own hands and exercise it as they please. We may think we know better than Citizen Kleo, that we've studied the issues more closely, that we're simply smarter than she is. We may even be right about that. None of it gives us the right to make political decisions for her."

"But the Mat . . ." Miranda stopped, and started her objection over from scratch. "The _reactionaries_ claim that right."

"I believe you humans would call that a _nice save_," said Trellani, the Matriarch.

Miranda made an apologetic face.

Liara smiled. "Yes, the reactionaries claim that right. When times are good, most asari are content to allow it. Yet once in a while, the people step up and reclaim their sovereignty. When they do, those of us who wish to act in good faith can advise, we can persuade, but in the end, we _must_ let the people make their own decisions. That includes letting the people live with the consequences, if it turns out they chose poorly."

Miranda lay back on her deck chair, looking up into the blue Thessian sky, gorgeous with sunlight and high white clouds.

"I suppose that authoritarian tendency you talk about is in my blood too," she said at last. "I've never been very good at letting other people make decisions for themselves, when I _knew_ the best course of action."

"You spent much of your life working in authoritarian power structures," said Trellani. "Cerberus was an absolute autocracy. Even if individual cells sometimes tended to go their own way, when Jack's eye wasn't on them. Sometimes with disastrous results."

Miranda nodded, remembering why Trellani was so knowledgeable.

_She was the Illusive Man's mistress, his confidante, his sounding board, his lover. For a while, she knew him better than anyone else in the galaxy. She still knows more about Cerberus than anyone, aside from Liara and me. Even if her knowledge _is_ a bit out of date._

"Sometimes I _was_ the Illusive Man's eye on those rogue cells," she admitted. "His enforcer. Which was also very poor training for taking it on faith that people will get things right without supervision."

"_All things grow if they wish to live_," Trellani quoted.

Miranda shook her head in disgust. "Why can't you asari just say _I told you so_ like sane people?"

The Matriarch laughed.

"What is funny, _mata_?" came a new voice, high and bell-like.

Miranda felt a smile of uncomplicated joy spread across her face.

The new voice belonged to an asari child: about tall enough to come up to Miranda's shoulders, slender but vibrantly healthy, a subtle spray of indigo dapples on her face, her eyes blue and crystal-clear. Liara claimed that Little Miranda had the promise of great beauty and poise, but for now she was coltish, with little of an asari adult's easy grace.

"Your _synónymo_ respects asari wisdom, but she likes to make a show of impatience with it," said Trellani. "She is only doing her part to prevent us from becoming arrogant."

"Well, then she needs to do a better job. We often _are_ arrogant."

Miranda laughed, and sat up on the edge of her deck chair to hold her arms out. "That's all right, Little Miri. I like asari anyway. Come here!"

Released from her polite station at the edge of their conversation, the child scampered forward to give Miranda an enthusiastic hug. Miranda lowered her face to inhale the scent of the girl's skin, like sunshine on grass.

"I was hoping we could spend some time going over my mathematics," said Little Miranda. "I keep making the same error. Maybe you can figure out what I'm doing wrong."

"If you like." Miranda rose from her chair entirely, glancing at Liara.

"Go ahead," said her lover. "I want to have a good long talk with Trellani. I promise I'll let you know if we get any news."

"Suits me." Miranda took her small namesake's hand, and followed the girl back into the house, to sit with her in the living area and investigate the mysteries of integral calculus.

As often happened when she visited Matriarch Trellani, Miranda found herself insatiable for the little one's company. Trellani's child had an immense curiosity, and a mind sharp enough to support and reward it. Living in the Thessian outback, with only her mother and a single acolyte for company, she sometimes seemed starved for mental stimulation. The extranet helped, and Trellani was certainly no intellectual lightweight, but still.

_The Illusive Man's daughter shouldn't be cooped up in this backwater forever_, Miranda thought, not for the first time.

Best of all, the girl's personality seemed to fit Miranda's own: cool, detached, perhaps somewhat ruthless when it came to getting what she wanted, but still with a strong sense of moral order. The two of them understood one another, better as the years passed and Little Miri slowly grew out of the simplicities of childhood.

It was hours later when the two of them emerged at last, to find the evening meal in preparation and the election results finally in.

Erato and the reformers had won their victory. There would, after all, be change in Armali.

* * *

"Do you still want children of your own?" Liara asked her, late that night, while they made slow, lazy love in the guest bedroom.

"Hmm." Miranda moved both hands into sensitive territory, and began a teasing massage. She heard Liara's breath catch, and smiled to herself. "I've thought about it. It would be a major undertaking, to fix the old bastard's one mistake. Cloning, transplants, hormone therapy. Maybe someday. I'm not sure it's as important to me as it was once."

"I watch you with Little Miri, and I keep thinking that you would be a very good parent." Liara growled softly, opening her legs a bit to grant better access. "I wish I could give you that."

Miranda snorted, doing her best to ignore the sensations beginning to filter across the link from Liara's nervous system. "You're too young," she said dryly. "By the time you're a matron and ready to give in to your nesting instinct, I'll be old and grey. You'll get tired of me long before that."

"Don't be so sure, Miranda. I think it will be a long time before I get tired of you." The asari's head turned, to accept a lingering kiss. "I'm so glad this business in Armali is all over. I want to get away from Thessia for a while. It will be interesting to live on the Citadel, and help get that part of the galaxy back on its feet as well."

Something came to the fore, that Miranda had seen in Liara's memories. "We could always adopt," she suggested.

Liara's eyes opened wide, suddenly paying much more attention to Miranda's words than what her hands were doing, but she said nothing.

"I know," Miranda murmured. "You had that discussion with Shepard once. Well, the reasoning is still sound. There aren't as many war orphans on Earth as there were a few years ago, but there are still any number of kids who need parents. We would probably do as good a job at that as anything else we've done together."

"We would have to be bonded," Liara said thoughtfully. "Married, as you would say it. Before anyone would consider assigning children to our care."

Miranda bit her lip, thinking about that, interrogating the depths of her mind where the most profound decisions got made. To her surprise, no storm of objections arose.

_Maybe I'm finally ready to let my guard down._

She bent close, to whisper close to the asari's face. "I don't suppose that will be a problem."

"I didn't think you would be interested in that kind of commitment," Liara said, her voice gone small.

"We can take one day at a time."

Liara's arms reached out to pull Miranda close, passion beginning to override patience. "I'd like that."

* * *

_**27 Thargelia 3364 AR (3 February 2198), Kandros Mountains/Thessia**_

So, for a few days, they paid almost no attention to the rest of the galaxy. They enjoyed the company of Trellani and Little Miranda, they made plans for their future, they retired to their guest room every night for sensual indulgence and the deep sharing of memory. Liara's acolytes, and Trellani's sole servant, gave them plenty of space and privacy. They could almost forget that the outside world existed.

Until the _second_ round of elections took place in Armali. The one that not even the Shadow Broker had spent any time planning for.

Miranda and Liara were sitting at the cabin's dining table, finishing a fine dinner with Trellani and her daughter, when they heard the front door of the house slam. The sound of two pairs of running feet followed at once.

Trellani leaped upright, her biotic corona alight, but she dropped it as soon as two more asari entered the dining area. One was Trellani's acolyte, Pelagia: an indigo-skinned matron, wearing jacket and trousers, a pistol at her hip. The second was Vara, in uniform, her sword slung over her shoulder.

"What has happened?" Trellani asked.

"Maiden Vara insisted on coming to see her principal, _at once_," said Pelagia. Her usual calm expression was gone, replaced by startlement.

"My apologies, Matriarch," said Vara, "but there has been urgent news from Armali that involves Dr. T'Soni."

Miranda saw Liara tense slightly, a subtle thing that she might not have noticed two weeks before. "What is it?" she asked, calmly enough, but setting her glass of wine down very carefully.

"_Despoina_, you have been elected _exarchōn_ of the Republic of Armali."


	17. Betrayals

_**27 Thargelia 3364 AR (3 February 2198), Kandros Mountains/Thessia**_

A rather shocked silence set in, all around the table.

Miranda thought quickly.

_Exarchōn:_ an ancient word that originally meant _the leader of a chorus_, or _coryphaeus_. In the _koiné_ it meant a political office, not part of the usual constitutional order, authorized to carry out a specific function, possibly for a limited period. The revised Charter of the Republic of Armali, approved a few days before, had designated an _exarchōn_ to serve as a public ombudsman or watchdog. She would be tasked to keep an eye on all the other elected officials, and ferret out any evidence of corruption or misconduct in office. An independent inspector-general, perhaps, with no authority to do anything but bring problems to the attention of the public.

"That's nonsense," Miranda said at last. "You weren't even _running_ for any office."

She saw it, the flickering exchange of glances around the table that said _the human has missed something_.

"That doesn't necessarily make any difference," said Liara, suddenly not meeting her lover's eyes. "We don't have any tradition that says a candidate has to declare herself in advance. Anyone who is eligible and qualified can be elected. For that matter, most of the Republics fill at least some of their public positions by selecting citizens at _random_. Asari history is full of people who were _surprised_ to find themselves elected to high office."

"Did you not even consider that you might be elected?" Trellani inquired.

"No. I did _not_." Liara abruptly stood up from the table. "Matriarch, may I impose upon you for the private use of your study for a few minutes?"

"Certainly." Trellani extended a hand to Little Miranda. "Come, child, we had best let Dr. T'Soni see to this on her own."

Reluctantly, the girl left with her mother.

Miranda and Vara followed Liara into the Matriarch's study. Vara closed the door and stood guard beside it, while Miranda found a chair, and Liara sat down at the desk to call up a holographic window. A few moments later, the call went through. An asari face appeared, slate-blue with a striking array of black stripes.

"Dr. T'Soni. I imagine you've just heard the news," said Erato.

"That's correct. Erato, I would like to know just how this happened."

Miranda shivered for a moment. She had never heard quite so much steel in Liara's voice.

"As you know, today was the election for the new offices created by our reforms." Erato shrugged. "Apparently, over the past few days there was a whispering campaign to draft you for the office of _exarchōn_. Your candidacy did not take the lead at first, but once word got around, the idea seems to have caught on. In the end, you were the first choice of a substantial block of voters, and the first or second choice of a narrow majority. Enough to secure your election."

"I see. Erato, at what point did you, personally, decide _not to bother informing me of this_?"

The visual pickup was very good. Miranda could see a flicker of unease in Erato's eyes.

"Dr. T'Soni, you have my word, I was not behind this. I'm not certain where the whispering campaign began." Erato sighed, and visibly decided not to dissemble. "However, I _was_ aware of it four days ago."

Liara was silent for a long moment. When she spoke again, her voice was utterly calm. "You realize, of course, that if I had been informed, I could have stopped this before it began."

Erato cocked her head, a skeptical gesture. "Really, Doctor. The _Shadow Broker_ needs _me_ to tell her what is happening on the streets of Armali? I assumed you knew, and that you approved."

"Apparently, I have made several mistakes. One was to assume that with the revolution successfully concluded, I could freely turn to other matters." Liara's voice turned glacial. "Another was to assume that I could trust you. I know better than to think that _you_ might simply _assume_ anything, Erato. You knew I would not approve, and you took steps to ensure that I would not know until it was too late for me to take action."

Erato made no visible reaction, but Miranda sensed guilty knowledge.

_Which means_ . . .

She glanced at Vara's face, and what she saw there confirmed her suspicions. The petite commando looked as if she wanted to vanish through the floor. Perhaps permanently.

_For good reason. Liara is as angry as I've ever seen her_.

"You are aware, of course," Liara continued, "that I had plans to leave Thessia for a time."

"Yes," Erato admitted. "Doctor, you are by far the most qualified individual in Armali to take on this office. As the Shadow Broker, you have a long and proven track record of ferreting out misconduct on the part of governments across the galaxy. You also have more than enough resources to be effective. The new Republic is very fragile. _You are needed here_, not out somewhere in the galaxy."

"That is short-sighted. As the Shadow Broker, my responsibilities _are_ galaxy-wide. The position also requires strict neutrality. If I were to take up a political office on my homeworld . . ." Liara shook her head. "I can't _begin_ to estimate how much business that would cost me. Is the Republic of Armali prepared to compensate me for this hardship?"

"Of course not! The Republic is in no condition to make such a promise." Erato took on a thoughtful look. "Although the harm might be mitigated. The office of _exarchōn_ is elected, but not _partisan_. If anything, you would be more effective if you had no close ties to any political party. You could present this to your other clients as a contract to provide a specific kind of intelligence to the Armali government, in return for considerations other than credit. The Shadow Broker already takes on such contracts elsewhere, does she not?"

Liara frowned, appearing to concede the point.

_Watch out_, thought Miranda. _She's got you off-guard. Trying to play you._

"In the meantime, Dr. T'Soni, I'm sure you are aware of the consequences, should you refuse to accept election. Surely you still value your citizenship in the Republic of Armali, where your lineage has been prominent for over three thousand years."

"Now, that's _enough_!" came a snarl from elsewhere in the room.

Miranda stared at Vara, shocked at her sudden vehemence.

The commando stepped forward, staring at her lover's image, her face fierce with anger. "Erato, you're on the board of _archons_ because we helped _put_ you there, and you know it. You wouldn't have been able to push as hard as you did without our support. You wouldn't have been able to decisively discredit Ariadne and her cabal, except that the three of us _put our lives on the line_ to root out Cerberus and bring back the evidence you needed. You have _no_ right to be making veiled _threats_!"

Erato recoiled.

Vara turned to Liara. To Miranda's shock, she _knelt_ on the carpet at her principal's feet. "_Despoina_, I abjectly apologize. I have failed you."

Liara didn't move, didn't change her expression. "Specify."

"The day after the election, you granted me leave. I flew down to Armali to see Erato, and celebrate our victory. I spent the night with her before coming back here. I did _not_ speak to her about your plans, or anything else you would have wanted held in confidence. I exercised the same disciplines that I always do, to keep your secrets private in the joining. Still, she must have seen _something_ in my memories. Enough to deduce that you planned to leave Thessia."

Liara nodded. "Erato?"

Erato hesitated for a moment, and then nodded in agreement. "That was how it happened, Doctor. In the joining, Vara let slip that you were involved in a liaison with Ms. Lawson. I guessed that you might be planning to relocate off-world with her, possibly to the Citadel. So, when I heard that some citizens planned to put your name forward for the office of _exarchōn_, I . . . simply kept the knowledge to myself, in the interests of the Republic. If you learned about it in time some other way, so be it. I would accept that result. Fortunately, you did not."

"I see." Liara turned to watch her acolyte for a long moment, and then shook her head, reaching out to put a gentle hand on Vara's shoulder. "It's not your fault, Vara. You made the same mistake I did. The responsibility is mine."

Vara reached up to lay her hand over Liara's, struggling for a moment to master her emotions. Then she stood, and turned to Erato's image once more. "That doesn't make what you did any less dishonest, Erato. You _used_ me, to score a political point. As far as I'm concerned, you and I are _over_."

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at that." A trace of malice crept into Erato's face. "Of course, Vara darling, if you _really_ want to do this in front of your principal and your human friend, there's something I need you to know. Our little fling couldn't have lasted much longer in any case."

"_What_?"

"I'm a fourth-century matron who was just elected to one of the highest offices in our _polis_. It's about time I settled down to have children, and for _that_ purpose you are _entirely_ unsuitable." Erato smiled, a sharp thing that carried no warmth at all. "I need to go find some likely _métoikos_ instead. The _last_ thing I need is to imitate Benezia, and throw a _pureblood_ child to drag _my_ political career down into the mud."

Vara flushed deep indigo, her lips skinning back from her teeth. She seemed about to hurl herself at Erato's image, but then Liara reached up and put a hand on her arm, restraining her.

"Erato, I fail to see what you gain by antagonizing me and my acolytes in this manner," Liara said, still outwardly calm. "Suppose I was to accept the office of _exarchōn._ Surely you realize that if I become hostile to you and your allies, I will examine your conduct with _particular_ care?"

"Good!" said Erato, the smile becoming genuine for a moment. "I would expect nothing less than your best, Doctor."

"Then we understand one another. One more question, then. Should I decline election and accept exile from Armali . . . who was the electorate's second choice?"

Erato snorted in disgust. "Matriarch Kleitho, the old opportunist. She has managed to avoid being smeared with Ariadne's disgrace, and retains a following among genuine conservatives in the electorate. She apparently decided that being a watch-beast for the _archons_ was preferable to sitting on the board herself."

Liara nodded. "Thank you. I will inform you of my decision by tomorrow."

Erato's image vanished.

Miranda shook her head. She had said nothing, felt she had nothing to contribute. She could still sense the tension in the air of Trellani's study, like the moment just before a storm broke.

_If Liara and Vara were cats, their backs would be arched, their tails would be bottled up, and they'd be hissing. At Erato, at each other, at themselves, possibly at me. Maybe I should leave them to it._

Quietly, she slipped out the door and went in search of Little Miri. Some pleasant, uncomplicated time with the girl sounded very welcome, just then.

* * *

Night came, the kind of crystal-clear night that sometimes happened in the mountains, when the whole galaxy seemed to crowd into the sky. Long after the sun went down, Miranda stood in darkness on the deck, looking up at the stars, wondering about Shepard.

_Damn. I've caught it from Liara_, she realized. _Although having a close encounter with the Reapers again would likely make _anyone_ wonder what's going on out there._

As if the thought conjured it up, she heard Liara's voice. "Miri?"

"Over here."

A moment later, Liara stood by her side, arm around her waist, cheek leaning against her shoulder. Miranda put an arm around Liara's shoulders to pull her close. The asari sighed.

"Is Vara okay?" Miranda asked.

"She will be. This is hardly the first time she's had a liaison end badly. She feels far worse that it hurt the two of us."

"Right." Miranda took a deep breath. "I suppose this changes all our plans."

Liara hesitated, and then shook her head. "No," she said quietly. "I'm still coming to the Citadel with you."

A moment later, not quite knowing how it had happened, Miranda was standing two meters away, staring at Liara in the darkness. "You are _not_ serious," she said, so that she wouldn't say something far worse.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Liara asked, startled at Miranda's reaction.

"You'd be giving up a _lot_. Citizenship in your home city. The land and house where you grew up. Your position as the head of the T'Soni lineage."

"Yes."

"For _what_?"

"For you." Liara cocked her head. "Miranda, you're the best thing that has happened to me since . . . since Shepard died. For the first time in years, I feel like I have something to _live_ for, not just a reason to keep trudging along and surviving one more day. I would give up a lot, before I came to your entry on the list."

"My God." Miranda stood there, fists clenched. "I don't know whether to be delighted or appalled. I am _not_ worth all of that."

Liara held her hands out. "I think you are."

Miranda shook her head. "I am _not_ going to let you do it on _my_ account. But put that aside. What's really going on here, Liara?"

The hands fell. Liara looked away, out into the darkness. "What do you mean?"

"You're forgetting, I've been in your head. Several times. I probably know you better than anyone. So I know you are _not_ throwing away everything you value about being asari, just because you've fallen in love with _me_."

Liara leaned against the railing, and was silent for a long time. "Do you ever wonder," she said at last, "what the _point_ is of what we do?"

Miranda unclenched her fists and came to lean on the railing next to Liara. "I'm going to assume that you have something more than sophomoric moaning in mind."

Liara shot her an annoyed glance. "I hope so. Look, we fought to save the galaxy from the Reapers. A trillion lives. We won. We saved those lives. It didn't change any of us for the better. It didn't turn us all into saints."

"Well. Apart from Shepard."

"Hmm." Liara seemed to lean a little closer. "The point is, it didn't take very long for some of the major powers to slide back into old patterns of behavior. You humans are doing well enough, possibly because the Reapers destroyed so much. You could rebuild on a new foundation. The krogan have been much the same. Everyone else, though . . ."

Miranda nodded, remembering some of the things she had heard. "Turians getting all authoritarian in their own space, and moving fleets to intimidate their neighbors. Salarians acting as if they're holding even more secrets than usual. Aria T'Loak getting off her ass and extending power across the Terminus Systems. Who knows what's going on out on Rannoch, with the quarians and the geth?"

"You see the problem. And here on Thessia, with the asari?"

"Well, if we were hoping to toss out some of the more scheming and manipulative Matriarchs, we succeeded. I'm not sure that Erato is going to be much of an improvement."

"No. I thought I could expect better from her. If this is what she's willing to do now, I can only imagine what she's going to be like when _she _becomes a Matriarch." Liara sighed. "After everything that's happened, asari are still asari, the bad as well as the good. Miranda, we're going to end up making the same mistakes all over again. Maybe we won't end up with the Reapers, but if we're not careful we'll find something just as horrible. What point in saving the galaxy, if it just . . ."

"Stubbornly refuses to stay saved?"

"Something like that."

To her surprise, Miranda felt a smile on her lips. "Liara. Wasn't it right about here, a few years ago, when I was feeling terribly low . . . that _you_ told _me_ our work is something we never get to claim is finished? Like mowing the lawn."

"I know." Liara's head bowed. "Miranda, I'm deathly tired of mowing the lawn. I would like someone _else_ to do the chores for a while, and deal with the fact that the weeds keep coming back. Is that too much to ask?"

"No." Miranda reached out to put her arm around the asari's shoulders again. "It's probably too much to expect the universe to agree, though."

Liara only nodded. "I'm sorry. You must be ashamed of me, complaining like this."

_I will admit, I've had to stop myself from saying something unforgivable, at least three times in the last ten minutes. It wouldn't be fair to her. Everyone gets a moment of weakness once in a while._ _Even me._

"I suppose that's what I'm here for. To listen to you complain, when we're alone in the dark of night, and then to kick your arse and tell you to get back to work when morning comes."

Liara snorted in reluctant amusement. "You sound like Shepard, when you say things like that."

"I thought I sounded more like Jack, actually."

"Jack wouldn't be nearly as patient with me as you have been." Liara became serious once more. "We're not going to get to do that, though: keep each other sane and moving forward. Not every morning and every evening, for years to come, the way we had planned."

"I could stay here," said Miranda, but even she could hear the lack of conviction in her own voice.

Liara craned her neck around to bestow a kiss. "I love you for saying that, but you and I both know it wouldn't work. I know you like asari, I know you like Thessia . . . but you've been away from your own people too long. You need to go home, even if you're going to be stubborn about me coming with you."

"I am going to be _very_ stubborn about that. I think you would spend centuries regretting it."

"I suppose you're right. It would be foolish of me to burn all my bridges just because I'm angry with Erato right now." Liara turned, and stepped into Miranda's embrace, holding on tight. "I can't stop loving you, though. I hope you don't want me to try."

Miranda bent her face close, to inhale the scent of Liara's skin and whisper close. "No. I don't want that at all."

"All right. Then how do we make this work?"

"Well. You _do_ own three or four starships, the last time I checked. Not to mention business interests all over the galaxy. The _exarchōn_ of Armali isn't going to have to spend _all_ her time inside the city limits, is she?"

"I suppose not. Although I'll have to spend most of my time here, I think."

"That's fine." Miranda looked down at Liara's face, and smiled. "It's not as if I won't be busy too. If I know Oriana, she'll have half a dozen projects waiting for me the moment I reach the Citadel. I might be able to arrange the occasional business trip out to asari space, too."

"No doubt." Liara looked thoughtful for a moment. "Why don't you let me go in with you to buy an apartment on the Citadel? A big one, in one of the wealthier districts, maybe even on the Presidium. Like Admiral Anderson's old place, only better. Close to all the culture, night-life, and scientific facilities you could ask for. I'll send a team to secure it thoroughly, and build in a Shadow Broker command center. It can be your home base, and mine as well when I'm in the area."

"That works for me. Then there's the other thing you have to remember."

"What's that?"

"We have _time_." Miranda cocked an annoyed eyebrow at her lover. "Bloody hell, Liara, you're _asari_. Take the long view! So what, if Erato trapped you into a political career! Stick with it, do the best job you know how to do, and when you _do_ get free we can pick up where we left off. Doesn't matter if it takes five years, or ten, or twenty. Not to mention that I've got the best genes the old bastard's money could buy. I may not have as much time as you do, but I still have more than enough."

Somehow, this didn't seem to please Liara as much as Miranda expected.

"I don't know, Miranda. Something tells me that if I commit myself to this, it won't be all that easy to break free. One part of being asari is the ability to make long-term plans. Another part is knowing that those plans don't always work out."

Miranda nodded slowly. "You're probably right. No reason we can't take it one day at a time, and see what happens, is there? It's still better than either of us had a month ago."

"I suppose it is." Another kiss, this one very warm. "Well. If I'm going to be penned up as Erato's watch-beast, and you're going back to Earth to help your sister rebuild the planet, then I suppose I had better enjoy you while you're here. Let's go inside. I have _plans_ for you, and they're short-term enough that I doubt anyone will interfere."


	18. Beyond the Sunset

_**24 May 2200, Sierra Nevada Foothills, Earth**_

Miranda emerged from the aircar and took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp flavor of mountain air. She looked around at the stark landscape: a small river running down from the distant heights, green grass and sparse trees on the slopes, the rugged peak of Mount Whitney in the distance. A house loomed on a nearby hill, low to the ground and set back into the hillside, its front dominated by great glass windows that shone in the afternoon sunlight.

Her companions emerged as well. Liara wore denim jeans, a white shirt, and tough hiking boots. She glanced around her with keen interest, enjoying the alpine landscape. Kahlee Sanders pulled a leather jacket close around her shoulders, brushing long blonde hair back from her face. She seemed alert but slightly puzzled, her ice-blue eyes darting about as if to search out clues to a mystery.

"We're here," said Miranda.

"You still haven't been very clear about where _here_ is," Kahlee complained. "A mountain cottage on the edge of the Sierras? This is pretty country, but I don't have time to take a vacation right now."

Liara made a Mona Lisa smile, as always seeming to know more than she let on. "I think the question is, _whose_ mountain cottage is this?"

Miranda set out toward the house, striding boldly across the open ground, knowing that her friends would follow. "Nobody has actually _lived_ here for a long time. A few refugees camped on the grounds for a while during the Reaper War, but even they couldn't get in. The house's defenses were too effective."

"_Defenses_?" Kahlee asked, seeming to hesitate for a moment.

"Don't worry. The current owners are the Tulare County Historical Trust, and they gave me the pass-codes after I convinced Sanjeev to take an interest. We shouldn't have much trouble getting into the house. Finding what we're after may be a different story. If it's here at all."

"So, who _did_ own this place?'

"Originally, it belonged to Alec Ryder."

Kahlee stopped dead, staring at Miranda. "All right," she said harshly, "just _why_ did you call me all the way from Elysium for this?"

Liara intervened, pitching her voice for calmness. "Kahlee, Miranda knows who your father was, because she knows what _I_ know. I don't think that's the reason she invited you here."

"That's right," said Miranda. "Look, I don't _care_ that Jon Grissom was your father, or why you and he were estranged for so long. Doesn't matter. That distant association with Ryder isn't the point. The point is, you're the foremost expert the Alliance has on artificial intelligence."

Kahlee frowned, obviously following a chain of deductions. "Ryder was drummed out of the Alliance military for illegal work on AI. The same kind of work I was doing for Dr. Qian, at about the same time, now that I think of it. You think he left something behind, when he and all those other people went off into dark space?"

"It's possible," Miranda told her, stepping up onto the house's front porch and examining the front door. "Brynn found the first clues, in old Andromeda Initiative records, and I agree that there are signs that he left _something_ here when the expedition departed. It could be nothing. It could be something for which I really want the smartest people I know on hand."

"Which is a compliment, if you want one," Liara murmured. "Alec was a brilliant man. Anything he left behind might have enormous implications."

"If you say so," said Kahlee, looking somewhat mollified. She gave Liara a sharp glance. "You speak as if you knew Ryder personally."

Liara shook her head. "Not really. He was interested in the Protheans and their technology, so he sought me out through the extranet. I corresponded with him for a while, before I met Shepard, but then he went silent and I didn't think of him again for several years. By then he was off to Andromeda."

Miranda opened her omni-tool, entering a pass-code. The front door of the house unlocked with a soft _click_.

Inside, they found everything in good order.

_Surprisingly good order, in fact, given that it's been fifteen years and the near-extinction of civilization since anyone has lived here._

Then Miranda spotted a small maintenance mech, tirelessly sweeping away dust, and she understood.

She kept her omni-tool open, probing the interior of the house with every available sensor. Liara moved quietly from room to room, using her unaided eyes to look for clues. Kahlee saw a framed photograph on the mantel of the living-room fireplace, that had fallen face-down. She crossed over to it and set it upright, revealing a family portrait: stern father, smiling mother, two small children.

"Odd," said Miranda. "No sign that there's anything here but a perfectly ordinary house."

"Possibly that's all there is," Kahlee said, turning away from the photograph. "Liara, do you see anything?"

"Maybe," came the asari's voice from the back of the house. "Come look at this and tell me if I'm imagining it."

Miranda and Kahlee found Liara standing in the kitchen, looking across the back of the house toward a formal dining room, with an office beyond. With the house built into a hillside, there were no windows. Still, the space was brighter for a big screen in the back wall, displaying a sunset over ocean.

Miranda saw it right away. "Why is the back of the house not a straight line?"

The back wall of the formal dining room failed to line up with the back walls of kitchen and office. It was offset inward, just a fraction of a meter, barely enough to notice.

Kahlee opened her omni-tool and tapped at the controls. "_Still_ not showing anything back there but bedrock."

"I suppose it could have just been a design decision," Liara mused.

Miranda stepped into the dining room, moving up close to the back wall and examining it closely. "There's no vid-screen here. Just a couple of still pictures . . ."

A big framed photograph of the Citadel was firmly attached to the wall, not just hanging from a hook. Miranda ran her fingers around the frame, until her fingertips sensed a slight irregularity near the lower right corner. She pressed there, hard.

With a _thunk_ and a deep rumble, the back wall of the dining room receded, divided in two, and then retracted to the sides. Behind it was a space that had in no way shown up on any of their omni-tool scans.

"I'll be damned," Kahlee whispered reverently.

They saw consoles, workbenches, and vid-screens. Cabinets full of tools. What appeared to be a powerful mainframe computer. All arranged around a holographic stage that dominated the center of the space.

Liara nodded to herself. "This must have been one of the places that Alec worked on his AI research, even after the Alliance cut him off."

"He was on the verge of some real breakthroughs, before he joined the Andromeda expedition," said Kahlee. She moved around the room, looking at everything, her hands firmly behind her back so she wouldn't be tempted to touch. "An entirely different approach. Integration of VI or AI systems with the human brain and nervous system. A _synthesis_ of sorts. Officially, he never got it to work."

"Kahlee, the laws against AI research have been relaxed since the war." Liara smiled. "Our experiences with EDI and the geth, what we've learned about the true history of the galaxy . . . it all means that if we're cautious, there's no reason why AI _must_ be hostile. A few people in power have become more willing to explore the possibilities. The Armali Council and I would be willing to support research into anything Alec discovered. If you might be interested?"

"If I _might_ be interested?" Kahlee laughed out loud. "Liara, what if he _succeeded_ after all, and there are clues to that work here? Do you have any idea what that might mean?"

Liara caught Miranda's eye. "Another adventure," she said quietly, reaching out to take her lover's hand.

* * *

_**4 October 2203, Presidium Ring/Citadel**_

Liara and Miranda returned to their apartment late in the evening, after dinner, drinks, and dancing at _Flux_. Miranda walked silently down the hallway to their front door, aware that the asari had gone silent, preoccupied by something.

The moment they were safely inside, Miranda gave the asari a meaningful stare, arms folded and eyebrow raised.

Liara sighed. "I'm sorry, Miranda. My omni-tool has given me at least three high-priority alerts in the last hour."

"You're getting to be a very good actor. I didn't even notice the alerts. I _did_ notice that you had your omni-tool on the whole time we were out."

"I know." Liara made a helpless gesture. "Miri, I didn't want to risk being distracted. We get to spend time together so rarely any more. But . . ."

"You knew there might be something urgent, and you felt guilty about cutting yourself off from contact entirely. So you wore your omni-tool on our date, but you refused to answer it." Miranda sighed, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "God, Liara, if you were a donkey standing between two equal piles of hay, you'd starve to death deciding which one to eat."

"I know." Liara stood there, her hands moving slightly, as if she wanted to take Miranda in her arms but had forgotten how. "I _hate_ this. Every time I try to pull away, there's always something to yank me back in. There's always some new crisis back home, or something the Shadow Broker must deal with. Even when I manage to get away for a few days for the Citadel, and you, it never lasts."

"What a load of _shite_," Miranda said harshly.

Liara stared at her, eyes gone wide and blue as if she had been slapped.

"Be honest with yourself, Liara. I know you never planned to be a _political figure_, but that's what you've become. You're good at it, even I can tell that. And the fact of the matter is, you _enjoy_ it."

The asari turned away, staring out the big front window of their apartment, the gorgeous view of the Presidium. She didn't move for several minutes, while Miranda waited patiently.

"I don't _want_ to enjoy it," Liara admitted at last. "That would be like admitting that Matriarch Ariadne was right about me all along."

Miranda snorted in distaste. "Well, you can put _that_ out of your mind, at least. I know your motivations a lot better than she ever did. You don't want power because it gives you the ability to control other people. You want power because you want to make life better for other people."

"That doesn't help. Who's to say I know what's best for anyone else? I can't even manage my own life properly."

"Then you find out! You work hard to gather information, so at least you're making decisions based on objective reality instead of living in some ideological la-la land. You listen to people. You persuade them instead of barking orders and twisting arms. When people don't agree to follow along, you accept that and move on to the next problem." Miranda shrugged. "None of which makes you a perfect candidate for political office, but you do better than most . . . and you _know_ that."

"Maybe."

"No _maybe_ about it." Miranda looked down at the floor, feeling ridiculous holding_ this _conversation while wearing a stylish evening gown, all crimson silk and strategically placed keyholes. She felt the need to be wearing work clothes instead. Possibly a sidearm. "Liara, this isn't about Matriarch Ariadne. This is about Matriarch Benezia."

Shadows moved in Liara's eyes, but Miranda couldn't see any confusion there. She knew exactly what her lover was talking about.

"This is how your mother felt, in the years just before you were born. She couldn't be the great philosopher and Matriarch, _and_ be Aethyta's bondmate, all at the same time. Couldn't commit to both fully, because together they demanded at least one-and-a-half Benezias. And she hated the idea of not committing herself fully to anything she thought was important."

"There was more to it than that," said Liara quietly. "Aethyta was . . . not the most auspicious bondmate, for someone in the position my mother found herself growing into."

"I wasn't going to go there if you didn't," Miranda snapped. "I know _I'm _not exactly bondmate material for any up-and-coming asari politician, either. I could live to be a thousand years old, and the Cerberus stink still wouldn't wash off."

"That doesn't matter to me."

"Maybe it should."

They stood, staring at each other, the few meters between them feeling like light-years.

"I'm sorry," said Liara at last. "You're right, I should compartmentalize my life better. If I can't spend as much time as I want with you – if you _still_ won't let me set everything else aside and move here to be with you . . ."

Miranda shook her head decisively.

"Then at least I should have the courtesy to shut it all out, for what little time we can steal for ourselves. It's not as if my aides and acolytes can't keep Armali from exploding, or the Shadow Broker's network from collapsing, for a few hours at a time. It won't happen again."

"All right." Miranda made a conscious effort to relax her spine, take one step forward, then another. Then Liara was a warm, familiar presence in the circle of her arms, and an ardent kiss set heat in the pit of her stomach.

Later, after they had gone to bed, the aftershocks of passion still running warm along her nerves, Miranda found herself holding the sleeping asari and staring at the ceiling.

_This isn't going to last_, she realized. _A few more months, a year, two years . . . and then she's going to go her way and I'll go mine._

_Maybe I should start planning for that._

* * *

_**15 July 2215, Presidium Ring/Citadel**_

Miranda closed the door to the apartment, dropping her carryall on the floor. The place was dark and silent, with no sign that Karl was home. She signaled for the lights, and made a beeline for the stairs up to her office.

_Liara hasn't called in months. Now she sends me nothing but a text message under a cover name, specifically asking me to call her from the apartment. Which implies she wants the security we installed, back when she still lived here some of the time._

It didn't take long for Miranda to remember the old command sequences. Some of the best encryption in the galaxy kicked in, routing through an ever-shifting chain of extranet sites, at least one of which involved a QEC link. Maybe Shepard could break it, wherever he existed, off in the Reaper-mind. With luck, no one else could.

The display flickered, and Miranda took in a deep, shocked, breath.

Liara looked _terrible_.

"Miranda." The cobalt-blue eyes stared out at her, a gleam in them of either deep fatigue or fanaticism. "Are you alone?"

"I'm alone. Karl must still be at the lab. He said something about the possibility of a late meeting. Liara, what's wrong?"

"Miranda, you have to get off the Citadel." The asari's voice was rough, tense with fear and concern. "Take Karl with you and get down to Earth, go to your sister and your friends there. Before you do that, though, I'm going to download a stack of files to you. Those _must_ get to the Alliance."

Miranda shook her head. "I don't understand."

"You know I've been investigating the trouble on Earth," said Liara. "Nationalist unrest, corruption and malfeasance among Alliance officials, a surge in xenophobia."

"The last time we spoke, you told me you couldn't find anything behind it. We decided it was just humanity being its usual fractious self, now that we've managed to get back some prosperity after the Reapers. Oriana and the rest of the Fantastics agreed."

"I was wrong. I was _very_ wrong." Liara looked away. "I've made a terrible mistake. I've been played, far worse than the Illusive Man ever managed back in the day."

"_By whom_?"

"The STG," Liara said flatly.

It felt like a lightning bolt at the base of Miranda's skull. She sat back in her chair, her eyes wide, as facts rearranged themselves in her mind, falling into place one after the other.

"Nobody even thought of it," she said at last. "The salarians have been so _polite_, so _helpful_, ever since the Reapers left. They provided so much funding for all the worlds that were hit far worse than theirs. We've never been able to prove a single non-human connection for any of the trouble in the Alliance."

"Or for the waves of turian separatism that Primarch Victus has had to deal with," Liara agreed. "Or for the recent uprisings against Clan Urdnot on Tuchanka. I finally got deep-cover agents onto Sur'Kesh, all the way into _dalatrass_ Esheel's palace and STG headquarters. It's the hardest bit of espionage I've ever had to oversee. There can be no doubt about it. The Salarian Union is deliberately trying to undermine human, turian, and krogan unity. They've been at it for years. They're about to make an open grab for power."

"You think they're going to strike _here_?"

"I know they are." Liara glanced to the side, working the keyboard at her end of the link. An icon appeared in Miranda's screen, indicating a data download. A big one. "This is everything I have. Right now, I don't trust any comm links onto the Citadel or into the Alliance except this one. You're the only one on the Citadel I know I can trust. You have to get this to Admiral Hackett."

Miranda nodded, already working to pull the data onto a hard-storage device. "You know, if the STG has compromised the Citadel _that_ badly . . ."

"This might be putting you in danger." Liara nodded. "I'm sorry, Miranda. I know I don't have any right to ask this of you."

Miranda raised a hand to touch the image of Liara's face. "Don't worry about it. I'm a little out of practice, but I'm willing to bet my tradecraft is still up to the challenge. Even if this _is_ the STG we're talking about."

"Be careful, Miri." The old pet name, escaping now, driven by desperate worry.

Miranda gave her once-lover a daredevil grin. "No promises."

She was careful. Over the next nine hours, she managed to get a warning to Karl Ritter, evade Citadel Security, defeat a well-armed salarian Spectre, get off the Citadel aboard a maintenance pod, survive a sky-dive from low Earth orbit, cross the North American continent without being spotted, and infiltrate Alliance headquarters in Vancouver. Liara's data reached Admiral Steven Hackett in time.

Thus, when certain _dalatrass_ within the Salarian Union launched their coup the next day, they failed to capture the Citadel or blockade Earth. Councilors Valeri and Ertarian were killed, and the Citadel Council disbanded for the first and last time in history. Spectre Corps headquarters was wrecked by a micro-fusion device, with heavy loss of life. Rear Admiral Ashley Williams died in the Battle of Charon, successfully holding the line against a salarian armada, wiping out her grandfather's dishonor for all time.

The Citadel stood. Earth stood. In time, the reactionaries who had maneuvered themselves into power on Sur'Kesh fell.

Afterward, Liara found herself one of the galaxy's foremost political leaders. Miranda remained on Earth, contented with Karl, her family, her friends, and her work for the Alliance. They spoke less and less often: friendly messages on special occasions, the rare encounter at a high-society function on the Citadel.

Sometimes, each of them remembered those brief years after the Silk Revolution. They would stop, and smile quietly to themselves, and then get on with business. It was enough.

* * *

_**28 August 2225, Presidium Ring/Citadel**_

Armistice Day.

Five years since the end of the Salarian Wars, almost forty years since the departure of the Reapers. The Citadel was a loud, frenetic place, celebrations taking place around the clock.

It helped that the Citadel Confederation finally seemed to be a going concern. It was a new galactic government set up to replace the fallen Citadel Council. A web of treaties centered on the old turian-human-krogan alliance. A first experiment in true interstellar democracy. Many times, in those first few years, it had seemed likely to collapse. Now, under President Hackett's firm hand, peace and prosperity were beginning to feel like things that could be relied upon.

Miranda walked with her husband along a promenade, the two of them talking about their scientific work as they idly browsed for a place to enjoy a bottle of wine and a fine meal. Then, rather suddenly, she saw an old friend, and something else that she couldn't quite believe.

"Karl, why don't you go on ahead and find us a table? Ping me so I know where to find you."

Karl looked the same way she had, one eyebrow quirking upward as he realized what Miranda had seen. He nodded, bent to kiss Miranda's cheek, and then strode away.

Miranda made her way between the tables of a small wine bar, until she reached her target. Only then did she clear her throat to call attention to herself. "_You_ two are certainly off your guard."

Startled, Liara glanced upward. Then she relaxed, as soon as she saw who had accosted her. She made an amused snort, and turned to her companion. "Vara, I'm surprised at you, letting such a dangerous person sneak up on us like that."

"I saw her coming a block away," Vara told her. "Besides, I'm not your bodyguard anymore. Nerylla probably spotted and up-checked her even before I did."

Miranda cocked her head at the petite . . . _ex_-commando, apparently. Vara still looked small and wiry and dangerous. Still, for the first time since Miranda had known her, she was out in public in something other than a commando's light armor. Instead, she wore a _dress_ in deep-red silk, low-cut and rather clingy. The effect was rather startling, for anyone like Miranda who had known Vara for many years.

Liara's body language was instructive: turned toward Vara, gaze tending to wander in that direction, one hand resting on the table-top as if it wanted to inch over and rest atop the other asari's.

_Well. About bloody time._

Miranda sat down at an unspoken invitation. "So, what brings the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs out in public this evening, without a swarm of aides and hangers-on, and not a single _paparazza_ in sight?"

"We're on a date," said Vara, without hesitation.

"You said you weren't Liara's _bodyguard_ anymore." Miranda cocked her head at the two of them. "I assume that means a different sort of involvement now."

Vara grinned, a wide white thing that lit up her face. "Looks that way."

As always, Liara's smile was a subtler thing, but there was no mistaking it. "A few weeks ago, we finally realized that we could stop dancing around the issue all the time. I asked. She said yes."

"With great enthusiasm," Vara interjected.

"With rather _irresistible_ enthusiasm."

"Well. I've only been waiting patiently for forty years. Even for us asari, that's not a short time."

Miranda leaned back, shaking her head at the server who came by to take her order. "How is it working out?"

"Ask us again in another forty years," Liara said. "We've decided to make a long-term thing of it. _Siavi_ vows first, then a formal bonding, all in the same day. Just as soon as we can find a space on my calendar large enough for a trip back to Thessia. You and Karl are invited, of course."

"We wouldn't miss it." Miranda frowned slightly. "Although that sounds unusually quick, for an asari-asari relationship."

"Now that we've made up our minds, we have a lot of catching up to do." Then Liara glanced down, her eyes suddenly shadowed. "Besides . . . we want to do it while my father is still on hand to celebrate with us."

Miranda felt a chill. "Aethyta isn't doing well?"

"She has her good days." Liara's hand finally moved to take Vara's, for comfort. "Her doctors say she doesn't have many years left."

"She's over a thousand years old," Vara murmured. "Even for asari, there comes a day when the Courier calls for you."

"Do you think I should come visit her?" Miranda asked.

Liara perked up again, a glint of amusement in her eye. "I didn't think you and she got along."

"She warmed up to me. Especially _after_ the two of us broke up. She and I discovered we actually had a lot in common."

"Yes, Miranda, I think she would appreciate it. If you're going to come to Thessia for our bonding, you could spend some time with Aethyta too."

"It's a deal."

Just then, a silent signal went off in Miranda's VI implant. By reflex, she turned her head in the direction Karl had gone, but of course he was out of sight.

"I know that look," said Liara. "Karl is calling you, isn't he?"

"That he is." Miranda rose from the table, smiling at her friends, for a moment remembering everything they had lived through and done together.

Vara rose as well, picking up her wine-glass. "Wait! Before you go, let's share a toast."

Miranda laughed, snagging the wine bottle itself since she didn't have a glass. "Sure."

"To the Citadel Confederation," said Vara. "Long may it stand!"

All three of them drank.

"I can beat that," said Miranda, raising the bottle. "To peace, after too many years of one bloody damned war after another. Let's hope all of us are safely in our graves before _that_ comes to an end."

"Hear, hear," murmured Vara, and drank again.

Liara raised her own glass. "To Shepard, who made it all possible."

Miranda paused for a moment, realizing something that should have been obvious.

_I'm betting that by now, Vara knows everything that Liara knows._

_Which means: here we are, the only three people in the galaxy who know what really happened to Shepard at the end of the Reaper War. Who know the truth behind all the comfortable myths by which the people of the galaxy live. Not that any of us will ever be able to breathe a word of it to anyone but each other._

_Now, there's a sisterhood the likes of which the galaxy has never seen before, and likely will never see again._

"Amen to that," said Miranda, and drank the last of the wine.

Then she said goodbye to her friends for the time being, and went in search of Karl and a truly fine steak dinner. Off into the rest of her life.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ There we have it. Five years after I began this adventure, this is probably the last chapter to be written for my take on Liara's story. At this point, I'm not sure whether I'll produce any more Mass Effect fiction. I'm certainly enjoying the new game, but it hasn't quite set my creative imagination alight the way the original trilogy did. At least not yet._

_Besides, I have plenty of other writing projects under way, some of which may prove more than just a labor of love. So, farewell to Liara and to her universe, at least for now._

_Now that "The Silk Revolution" is finished, though, I can challenge my readers one more time. There's something a little unusual about this story, which you may or may not have noticed while reading it. In fact, if I've done my job right, it should have slipped right past your radar. I'll be interested in hearing if anyone can figure out what I'm talking about. Feel free to drop me a PM if you have a guess._

_See you all around, one galaxy or another._


End file.
